


Guardian Angel

by Lunalalune



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26391202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunalalune/pseuds/Lunalalune
Summary: "Ink sighed long, his back arched while he watched with a dull eye the field of echo flowers in front of him. He was desperate, desperate by his constant fails, his flirting attempts for Error that didn't lead to anything. Seriously, why couldn't the Destructor just accept his advances?"===Error doesn't want Ink, Killer wants to break up with Nightmare, and in this storm of emotions the painter and the guardian agree on one thing: if they're going to be alone, they might as well be together.Errink / NightKiller / InkMare !
Relationships: Ink/Error, Nightmare/Ink, Nightmare/Killer, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62





	1. [ The most beautiful flower could not satisfy me…]

**Author's Note:**

> This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.
> 
> This is a translation of my French text, feel free to let me know if there are any errors!

Ink sighed long, his back arched while he watched with a dull eye the field of echo flowers in front of him. He was desperate, desperate by his constant fails, his flirting attempts for Error that didn’t lead to anything. Seriously, why couldn’t the Destructor just accept his advances? Oh, yeah, because he had haphephobia, they were both enemies and, parenthetically, because Error hated him. 

Yet, the painter just wanted to stop these perpetual fights, he wanted love and nothing else! But no, no matter the efforts, the Destructor didn’t want to hear anything.

A teleportation noise caught his attention, taking him out of his sullen thoughts to annoy him even more. He could recognize these steps between a thousand, so he left a weary sigh out:

“Nightmare, I am really not on the mood to fight now.”

The bad dreams master was definitely most detestable living being that Ink could ever know, and he was weighing his words! His animosity towards him wasn’t a secret for anyone and this hate was perfectly reciprocal. Yet, this night, Nightmare didn’t try any trick, any attack. He just set next to the painter without saying a word, visibly mad even if he was trying to control himself.

“I’m not on the mood either if you want to know.

-Bad day?

-Yeah. You too?

-Yeah.

-Error ?

-Killer ?”

They both nodded at the same time. What a poor duo… The only think they had in common was the fact that they both were as bad in love as the other.

Ink puffed his cheeks:

“I’m done making efforts for nothing! Seriously, I’ve been flirting with him for a while now to obtain nothing but hate!”

Nightmare laid his chin on his hand, irritated:

“Same. I make considerable efforts for Killer and this asshole still say that I’m not honest and that he’ll go with Color!”

New simultaneous sighs. They shared a look. An understood look as if, for the first time in many centuries, they were on the same wavelength. After all, … If their loved ones rejected them, what was left for them? What was left except them, two broken and sad souls, looking for comfort? 

They brought their faces imperceptibly closer, staring at the other, ready to turn the page, to go to the next step…

And a crunching sound petrified them. Still near to each other, not sure if they heard well or not, they slowly spinned their heads to see behind them… and then they saw a black bones' skeleton, sitting just behind their back, who was looking at them, eating greedily a handful of pop-corn. 

“Go on, go on.”, said the stranger, still staring at them.

The two others blushed with embarrassment, suddenly getting further to each other, recovering quickly. 

“Who are you ?!” yelled the master of nightmares, unsheathing his deadly tentacles.

The stranger took the time to end his bouchée, then licked his fingers one by one before standing up and dust himself. Mad of impatience and rage, Nightmare projected immediately his appendages towards him… To hit nothing but empty.

“Wh…?

\- What? You think I’m just gonna stand there and take it?”

Nightmare speedily turned around: the black bones' skeleton was now behind him, one hand in a pocket of his long violet coat and the other rearranging his grey scarf around his neck.

“…. Hum… Really, who are you? I don’t remember having seen you in the Multiverse! Ink intervenes, curious, while his pupils were turning into interrogation points.

\- Yup, I'm new here, and I don't like socializing. But I like overflowing love scenes.”

The stranger tends his hand to the painter, a little smile on his teeth:

“Yo, my name’s Nyx, Nyx the skeleton.”

Always happy of meeting new people, Ink didn't hesitate to shake his hand:

“Nice to meet you! I'm Ink, the multiverse guardian! And here’s Nightmare, the bad dreams’ guardian!”

Bad dream's guardian who grumbled, glancing at Nyx. This one gave him an amused smile and stretched.

“Cool. So, you're a couple or something? 

\- Wh… NO! panicked Ink. It’s… It's just that…!

\- That you've been rejected by your crushes and you're looking for comfort? Not lucky, really.”

Nightmare prepared himself to skewer Nyx but was narrowly restrained by Ink. Without even caring about it, Nyx took a huge bag that he had left near here and started to look for something in it. He ended up taking a notebook and a pen, then wrote.

“Hey, would you guys wanna do an experiment? said Nyx. I want to increase my matchmaker skills.

\- Matchmaker? cautiously repeated the two others.

\- Yep, like, I try to play the matchmaker. I can help you with your men.

\- Tch, go die, mumbled Nightmare.

\- Ok, I write ‘do not cooperate, prefers to let Killer to Color’ “

A tentacle caught violently Nyx on his neck, but he didn't even let his sketchbook down. Nightmare, mad of rage, rumbled with hate:

“I'm going to make you swallow your own teeth…

-… No problem. So, you know how to manage with Killer?”

The bad dreams' master tensed up, reluctant. He thought of Killer's face, of his smile, his laugh, of his presence that he could not do without anymore, that he would miss so much if he left the castle...

He rumbled again but let Nyx fall on the ground. The one massaged his neck, wincing a bit, but came straight back to his goal:

“I guess I can intervene then. Same with Error, isn’t it?

\- How did you…? marveled Ink before getting interrupted.

\- I’d just ask a place to live, please. A bedroom in the castle will be perfect.”

He took his things and dragged Nightmare and Ink in a portal, landing directly in the bad dream’s castle, in one of the main free rooms. Any of the two skeletons had the time to be chocked that Nyx continued, still writing on his notebook:

“So Killer doubts of Nightmare and wants to go with Color, so we have to show him his master's sincerity and take him away from the rival. Any idea? Of course not, or you wouldn't need my help. I'm gonna think about it. As for Error, we have to find a way to reach his feelings. I already have some ideas about that. Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

He dragged them to the door while saying all of his monologue, and it was when the door slammed and they were all alone in the corridor that they finally realized that they had been totally manipulated from the beginning by a completely unknow skeleton who, astound, seemed to know their entire life. 

Ink was the multiverse's guardian, the creator, one of the most powerful living beings of all AUs. But beside his role and his duty, Ink was still a big child skeleton and immature who liked to have fun, and plainly, this secret meeting between him, Nightmare and Nyx was one of the most entertaining. He seemed to be a member of a secret group with serious rules like “Rule 1, talking about the secret club is forbidden. Rule 2, talking about the secret club is FORBIDDEN!”. 

However, he was having a lot of fun and stamping with excitement, cross-legged on the bed of the room that Nightmare ‘gently' lent to Nyx.

The bad dreams’ master, as for him, was standing, crossing his arms, looking grumpy with a furious look. This meeting enchanted him as the undesired presence of this unknow skeleton in HIS castle, which wasn’t much. 

And last but not least, Nyx, peacefully seated on the office's chair, doodling random things on his sketchbook while chewing some dangos' skewer. 

“Ink, we’re gonna start with you, finally announced the black skeleton.

\- Ok chief ! What do I do ?

\- The opposite of what you did until then.”

The painter leaned his head on the side: 

“What do you mean?

\- You’re giving too much attention to Error. You’re always looking for him, talking about him, showing that you want to see him and that you love him, and I don’t mention the fact that you’re always trying to approach him. 

\- I'd just want him to get used to me and to try to touch me… 

\- Unfortunately, it doesn't work, so we're gonna change our method. First, stay away from him, don't talk about him, stop looking for him every time. You're preventing him from living by showing your affection too much. He's gonna feel jailed and forced, that's not what you want, isn't it? A mutually consented relationship his better, huh. 

\- Yes, of course, seen like this… I never thought about it this way.”

The creator looked down shamefully before refocusing his attention on Nyx’ speech: 

“More, Ink, being obsessed with someone is dangerous for yourself. You're too dependent on Error's presence. Loving someone is good, but getting sick about it isn't. I think this will be as beneficial for you as it'll be for your relationship with him.

\- … Change at all is going to be hard.

\- Change slowly, then. We’re gonna do it step by step. Wen you’ll wanna see him, come up to me instead, or go to your friends’ place. Think about something else, draw, have fun! Intervene when it’s urgent only, when Error is destroying an AU, for example.”

Ink nodded fast, his eyebrows frowned, writing on his scarf all he must remember. Nyx smiled a little at Ink's attendance before turning to Nightmare. The bad dream's master grunted:

“I'm not your pet, don't give me orders.

\- Advices aren't orders, only suggestions. And I know that you're clever enough to choose which advices you should to follow.”

The anger of the place's master subsided, but didn’t disappear however. Haughty, Nightmare said:

“Well, go on then.

\- Did you say to Killer that you love him?”

The office shattered and Nyx avoided the massacre only thanks to his sharp reflexes that teleported him in the other side of the room. He wrote on his sketchbook:

“‘Haven’t told his feelings yet’.

\- I don’t need to tell him, he knows it! yelled Nightmare.

\- Not necessarily. What do you do to prove it to him? He says ‘I love you’ and your answer is a vague ‘me too’?”

Nightmare reminded silent, we could almost see smoke of anger coming out of his ear canals. Mad of anger, his non-response was a loud and clear confirmation. 

“You're hopeless, commented Ink.

\- Look who's talking!”

An amused smile stretched Nyx’s teeth before completely disappearing. He looked at his notes and resumed:

“Killer probably have a big lack of self-esteem to doubt about you that much. After all, the bad dream’s master answering ‘me too’ for an ‘I love you’ is more of an achievement. You dislike public marks of affection?”

Nightmare made a little wince, which confirmed Nyx’ doubts. 

“I see. Well, in that case, we will do it slowly too. Show little affection marks to Killer in public, as often as possible. First in your privacy, and then gradually in public. 

\- … What kind of marks?

\- Mm… little touches, physical contacts as rustlings, gifts maybe? And, no, violent rough sex is not an affection mark. Killer probably ended up thinking that he’s just a sextoy to you.”

The guardian froze while hearing these words, suddly feeling very guilty. He looked away, muttering out a small anthology of insults while clenching fists. 

Nyx smiled again:

“We’ll already try to do this. I count on your collaboration.”


	2. [ ... there's only one that I want.... ]

The first days, Ink had great difficulty to apply Nyx's advice. The habit was that he would unconsciously seek out the destroyer's magic in order to locate him and join him, but he struggled with all his strength to stay in his place and not to crack. But damn it, to feel the powerful magic of his opposite, to feel it move and throb, was a terribly desirable torture. It was as if the Destroyer was taunting him, using his powers on purpose to attract the painter, and this only made the task more difficult.

Ink would then go to Dream or Blue's house to take his mind off things, to chat, to cook, to share light and funny moments. It worked for an hour or two, but soon Ink's mind was caught up in the desire, the desire to see his soul mate, to start their characteristic fights and maybe end up embracing each other tenderly.

But in those moments Ink would shake his head and take a deep breath. As Nyx had said, not by being stubborn with his misplaced attitude was he going to get anywhere! He had to show the Destroyer that he was independent and in control of his emotions! 

Then after a week without seeing his opposite - a terribly long time for the painter - Ink finally found himself face to face with him: Error had attacked an AU and was about to destroy it, but had ceased his activity as soon as the Creator arrived. They had looked into each other's eyes for a long time, silent, as if they were waiting for a reaction from the other ...

And Ink had attacked. Without a word, without deigning to enter into their usual verbal joust, he had fought Error to exhaustion, only to disappear quickly in a portal the next instant under the surprised gaze of the Destroyer.

“What shall I doooooo ?” Ink sobbed after appearing in Nyx's room, collapsing on his bed where he had rolled into a ball, a cushion in his arms.

The black-boned skeleton patted him gently on the shoulder as he finished his packet of chips, listening patiently to him complain:

“He doesn't care if I don't know, it suits him just fine! Maybe he loves someone else and I was in the way of seducing him from the beginning... I'm the worst ... !

\- But no, but no. Don't worry Ink, I know it's hard but hold on. We'll move on to stage two soon, ok?”

He handed him a crisp, which the painter gladly accepted, stuffing it in his mouth as he sniffed it, wiping his tear-fogged eyes. Nyx slid his hand over his skull and caressed him gently, in an almost paternal gesture that soon reassured him. Finally he finally dozed off, far too comfortable in the bed that was not his, smelling the smell of Nyx, which had become impregnated in the sheets and which, it must be said, was not unpleasant.

* * *

Error grunted, blasted a tree in his path. Fuckin' fuckin' .... A WEEK! A fucking week Ink ran away from him like the plague for no good reason! A fucking week that he didn't come to see him anymore, that he didn't even talk to him anymore, that he didn't even talk to him anymore!

Seriously, what was that last fight? Their fights were exciting because, in addition to inflicting resistance on each other, they shared animated verbal jousts that Error could only have with the painter! And there, at their last fight, Ink didn't say a word?

WHAT THE HELL...

His sons exploded a rock that was passing by.

Seriously... Error suddenly realized his thoughts, stopped dead in amazement: 

“... Ah ... Ahah... What am I thinking? It almost looks like I'm worried. But no, no, I don't care, at least I have peace, I finally have peace! Ahahah!”

He banged his skull against a trunk. Damn it. Damn it.

Next time he saw the artist, he'd smash it.

* * *

Nightmare tapped frantically on his desk, anxious and perplexed. It had been a few days since Nyx had given him some 'advice' but he still hadn't managed to put it into practice. Or rather, the few times he had tried had ended in disaster. The few times his arm had 'accidentally' brushed against Killer's arm, his subordinate had frozen for fear of being hit, upsetting the nightmare master to the core ... and forcing him to question himself completely.

He was impulsive, he was aware of it. He could be terribly violent and, unfortunately, it was often his henchmen who paid the price, even Killer. They were used to it and Nightmare had never cared about that before, but now... Now it pissed him off, it pissed him off to know that even the person he... he 'liked' was afraid of him.

“Fucking...”

He growled. Basically, it wasn't just Killer he had to calm down with, but all his subordinates. He didn't say it enough and would probably never admit it, but the bad guys had somehow become his new family.

He huffed and puffed, left his chair and walked out of the room into the kitchen... where he almost choked:

“ NYX ?!”

Indeed the black-boned skeleton was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, drinking a carton of milk as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He took the time to finish his sip before putting the empty bottle back on the table and then gently wiping his mouth with a towel. Nightmare was perplexed: he had already noted that, although Nyx seemed ill-mannered, he nevertheless possessed gestures close to the aristocracy, which only added one more mystery to this unwanted guest.

“Good morning, Nightmare.

\- There's no such thing as 'good morning'! Get out of here before someone sees you!

\- But you've already seen me.

\- You know exactly what I mean!”

Footsteps made him shut up and turn around. Someone was coming this way! Nightmare simply couldn't let anyone know that he would be harboring a manipulative complete stranger who was giving him 'advice' in flirting! So he turned back to Nyx, ready to give him his orders:

“Hide...”

But Nyx was already gone. And yet Nightmare hadn't heard the slightest sound of teleportation. One more strange thing about his guest... 

“Talking to yourself, boss?” Killer suddenly asked as he entered the room, glaring at his superior.

The master of the house used violence to maintain his self-control. Why, of all those present in the castle, was it his lover who was coming here at that very moment? He mentally insulted his damn karma and gave Killer a black look:

“No, I'm thinking out loud. Aren't you supposed to be on a mission?”

His henchman swallows:

“Um... Yeah, but I'm done. I just came by for a snack before... well...”

Nightmare frowned, suddenly quite suspicious. When Killer hesitated like this, it was because he was trying to hide something. And the keeper of negativity hated being kept from him. 

“Before what?” he scolded as he approached.

Killer stepped back towards the counter, understanding his blunder and trying miserably to find a suitable lie. But few could fool Nightmare.

“Before... ...before I went out...”

He knocked on the drawers, hiccuping with fear, and his apprehension made him want to cower, to hide underground.

The atmosphere became a little colder ... and Nightmare suddenly pressed him against the worktop, making him squeal in pain. 

"Before you go out with who?! "said the master, knowing the answer.

Killer clenched his teeth, looked away trembling. He simply couldn't hold his lover's gaze when he was in such anger. 

_ \- You're scaring him –  _

Nightmare tensed up, as much because of this observation as because of the surprise of hearing a voice in his skull. A voice that was all too familiar to him, probably because he had heard it in person not even a few minutes ago. Nyx's voice.

Damn, because that asshole was telepathic, too?

_ \- Killer wants to run away from you. He doesn't understand you. He doesn't understand why you're picking on him like this. He thinks you only want to keep him so you don't lose face, to show that you're still the master. He doesn't see that you're afraid of losing him – _

Nightmare froze, his eyes still fixed on Killer. Killer who had closed his eyes, visibly waiting to be violated as always. 

_ \- When you have sex, he probably enjoys the pain. But being masochistic in bed doesn't mean you're masochistic in everyday life. Have you ever thought of being gentle with him, of giving him loving moments even if it means taking it out on you? – _

Yes. He had considered it. But he couldn't, he was... he was afraid? Yes. He was terrified. Terrified of opening himself up to his lover, of letting his feelings show, of letting his soul show... only to be stabbed, betrayed in the vilest of ways.

He was afraid Killer would turn on him.

“... Ni... Nightmare ... ?”

He blinked, confused, to meet Killer's gaze. Killer was worried, not understanding why his superior wasn't moving, why he seemed so... sad?

"I, uh... is everything okay? You're really weird right now..."

He dared to say that despite their position, despite the fact that he was at the mercy of his lover, that he could potentially be used as an punching ball for him ... Because even though he doubted Nightmare, Killer was still madly in love with him.

And that made the landlord shudder.

“... Killer...”

The guardian, with a knotted throat, couldn't control himself. All his rage had given way to guilt and sadness and, without the slightest thought, he came to embrace his lover, burying his face in his neck:

“... Don't leave me ... I beg you ...”

Killer didn't hide his amazement, his soul racing away without him noticing, as much because of this request as because of this unexpected hug. He hesitated, wondering if it was another trick of the nightmare master... except that even for a plan, Nightmare would never beg. He would never stop to that, unless it was truly sincere.

Killer was overcome by emotion. He responded to the embrace with tears in his eyes:

“I would never... I'll never leave you, I promise you...”

So they stood against each other, savouring this sweet and strange moment, without noticing the darkness in a corner of the room, darkness where a shadow of a tender smile was hiding. That same shadow came to move, to slip into the shadows of other objects in silence, and finally, when she came out of the kitchen, she took on the appearance of a young skeleton with black bones. 

Nyx teleported into his room without fear that anyone would hear him. He immediately slumped down on the desk chair and took out his notebook, rather proud of himself:

"Good progress between Nightmare and Killer, although there's still some work to be done. Keep watching them but focus on Ink. Maybe pay Error a visit?"

As he was finishing his notes, he tensed abruptly, letting go of his things which hit the floor. He grabbed his coat, where his soul was. His soul pulsating strongly, far too strongly in his chest, which gave him a stabbing pain. He grimaced, clenched his teeth so as not to shout, not to alert anyone, and rushed to his bag.

He searched nervously inside, trying to stay in control of his breathing became erratic, his body was suddenly convulsing. His phalanges suddenly brushed against something smooth, familiar. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the bag.

An apple. A beautiful apple, completely black.

He immediately took a bite out of it. The abnormal acidity of the fruit didn't shock him, he had got used to it by now. He had become accustomed to the fact that every bite left a pungent taste on his palate, an icy sensation in his throat. He had gotten used to feeling, just for a second, a lot of unpleasant feelings. Anger, distress, sadness... A mob of feeling that ran through him all the way, that assaulted him like a violent bite on every bone before reaching his soul ... and everything returned to normal. Completely normal. 

He sighed a long sigh, the suffering having completely disappeared. His gaze wandered through the bag and he noted, with a hint of bitterness:

“I don't have much left... “

*** ***

The field of echoing flowers radiated in an unusual way, emitting warm colours such as red or yellow, giving the impression of a field of small sunsets. It even radiated warmth, a very gentle warmth that made Ink shudder and pushed him to come closer, to reach out his hand and caress one of the petals with his fingertips.

“Tch, Dream has no imagination.” he suddenly heard.

He turned around, barely astonished by the presence of the stranger despite his sigh:

“Hey, Night, didn't they teach you not to intrude on other people's dreams?

\- Shut up, I'm working.”

The painter raised his eyes to the sky without really worrying. He knew that Nightmare wouldn't give him the slightest nightmare, otherwise he wouldn't have shown himself to him. 

He returned to contemplating the field, which was far too beautiful to be real. It made him duller if compared to the blue field of Outertale, the field overlooked by the night sky that Ink enjoyed watching so much.

"I'd like to think in peace ... he finally blew at the goalkeeper's address.

\- I need to talk to you.”

The creator raised an arcade and turned towards him. Nightmare growled:

“This is the only place where we won't be disturbed.

\- Disturbed by whom? Nyx? 

\- Who else? I don't trust this guy.”

Ink tilted his head to the side:

“Why? Doesn't it work with Killer?”

The master of nightmares got worse and worse, with a fleeting look in his eyes:

“Yes, but ... it doesn't matter, that's not the point!”

Night took on a more serious look:

“You noticed it too, didn't you? He comes out of nowhere but seems to know everything about us. Even you, the Creator, know nothing about him. Isn't that strange? 

\- I also wonder... But the balance of the multiverse doesn't seem to be affected. Then I'm not worried. Besides... I don't know. I feel good with him. 

\- Ah, you're gonna give up Error for him?”

Ink swelled his cheeks:

“Nonsense! With Error it's different!”

His eyes grew sadder:

"With Error ... there is this bond. This invisible link. I... I want to be there for him. Protect him, show him he's not alone. I want to be able to give him a smile, to be with him... I want to see him happy, and I want to be the only one who can make him happy.”

He had a bitter laugh:

"It's selfish, isn't it? 

\- Yeah. Terribly selfish.”

Nightmare looked down:

"...but I feel the same.”

New silence ... before the guardian of negativity regains some spirit, a mischievous smile appearing on his face:

“Hey, maybe we can try something with Error.”

Ink looked at him in perplexity:

“What do you mean?

\- In itself, we don't know how he feels about you. But I can tell you that he has been giving off a strong anger since you ignore him.

\- Wha... is that true? Why didn't you say so?!”

Nightmare simply sneered before resuming:

“Look, I'll give you a test: let's fight. If he comes to save you, we'll know that he cares about you! 

\- ... And if he doesn't?

\- I'll kill you and then I'll take care of Dream.”

The creator is outraged:

“Fucking Nightmare! I was starting to think you were cool! 

\- Ahah, what did you think? I'm still the master of nightmares, poor naive painter!”

* * *

Ink sighed exasperated, his comrade always had to ruin such a moment! This annoyed him and he decided to slump between the flowers, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to bear the sight of the other skeleton anymore. Nightmare looked up to the sky at his reaction and came to join him, collapsing beside him before looking up at the dreamy sky. He wasn't used to enjoying a dream, it felt... strange but pleasant.

“... I searched for Nyx's spirit. Just to give him a nightmare, Nightmare suddenly confessed. But ... I found nothing. Since he's been in my house, I have the feeling that this guy isn't sleeping.”

He hated it. Gaining access to someone's subconscious was important to Nightmare, it reassured him because he knew he had a minimum of control over every living thing. A means of pressure to keep control of events. But Nyx was everything he hated: elusive and mysterious. 

“I can't feel his emotions either.”

He ended up taking a look at Ink, who was now paying close attention to him.

“...as if he had no soul.” finished Nightmare.

The creator froze.

The subject of the soul was most sensitive to him. He still didn't have one, but his vials had begun to have side effects on his body, allowing him to feel emotions without having to consume them all the time. And falling in love with Error had only further destabilized these strange effects: it was as if, slowly, a soul was beginning to be created in the Creator, although he wasn't sure and didn't dare to get his hopes up.

Ink looked up at the sky, uncomfortable and perplexed. He breathed softly:

“... If Nyx turns out to be dangerous, I will take care of it. But for now ... I would like to trust him.”

Nightmare growled but said nothing else. 

There was nothing more to say.


	3. [ ...only she has my eyes]

Plum couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the insults, the lustful looks, the inappropriate gestures, the disgust and hatred that were projected in his face.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He couldn't take any more acting, pretending to enjoy himself when he was in bed with a customer. He couldn't stand hearing 'poor bitch' over and over again where he wanted love notes, or being beaten up where he would have liked to be cuddled. 

He couldn't take it anymore.

That night was no exception. As he forced a smile on his face, as he wiggled his hips in the middle of the crowd, as he felt unknown hands touching his sexy but feverish body... He felt like he was about to crack. He felt like he was going to crack right in the middle of his workplace.

While yet another customer was paying him, dragging him into the sticky toilet only to take it out on him, get his kicks and leave him alone and dirty, he felt that tears would soon fall from his eyes.

And when he looked at himself in the mirror and saw his reflection distorted by sadness and shame ... he cracked.

He burst into tears, trying miserably to stifle his sobs. Yes, yes, he was like all the monsters of his world: in perpetual heat, needing sex to feel good. But not like that, not like that... Not after discovering that there were other universes that didn't have the same problem as his. Not after having confronted the judgmental looks of many Sans, of his counterparts who had either pitied him or been disgusted. Not after... Not after falling in love with his best friend, his adorable Grillby.

And Plum realized that his situation was not 'normal'. He realized that he didn't want that anymore, not that way of life. He realized that... realized that he wanted to make love to the one he loved. To make love only to the one who had conquered his soul.

But he couldn't. No, he couldn't. He couldn't quit his job like that, he needed a decent salary. And then he'd face the wrath of his clients and... and then what would he do if he quit? He NEEDED to sleep with someone. And if Grillby turned him down, he'd look like a jerk. Not only would he lose his job, he'd lose the love of his life. He would have lost everything.

So he'd keep his mouth shut, he'd smile, he'd pretend.

Like he did that night.

He came out of the bathroom, praying that his eyes weren't too swollen. He was about to return to the dance floor when his boss called out to him. He joined him and felt terror take hold of his being when he heard his words:

"You have another customer."

Already? When he'd just finished with the last one? He had to use violence to avoid losing face, already feel his tears coming up to his eye sockets. 

"He paid to have you here all night until ten o'clock tomorrow. He also booked a room where he's already waiting for you. »

That... That much time? Who the hell was that creep? 

As he walked to the room, Plum felt himself getting livid. What the hell... Hell no, he wasn't ready for that... He wasn't ready for a sick guy, a guy who was probably going to be worse than the others. Usually the clients that kept him around for a long time were the most dangerous, the most violent. The sadists who used various objects and usually broke him down. Just thinking about it, Plum froze, trembling, not daring to open the door.

He didn't have to. It was the customer who took care of it, probably when he heard it coming. 

"Good evening, Plum.”

He opened his eyes. Never, oh never, never had any of his clients used his real name. Plum had been calling himself 'Lust' for a long time, and only his little brother still called him by his name. Hearing him in the mouth of a complete stranger made him feel a violent fear and incomprehension. 

He looked up. The person he was talking to was a little taller than he was, and the first thing he noticed was that it was a skeleton. A skeleton with black bones. Plum held his breath, realizing that it was a monster from an alternate universe. He looked at his long purple coat, then at his grey scarf, and then at his face. His face that showed a tender smile and a sweet look.

Plum shivered.

“G ... Good evening, good evening...”

He gave himself a mental slap: NEVER stutter in front of the customers! The slightest sign of weakness could be fatal!

But his customer didn't seem to take this into account as he naturally invited him in, closing the door behind them. 

In a professional manner, Lust came and sat on the bed in an enticing position, but even in a soft tone he couldn't stop his voice from shaking:

"So beautiful man, what's your name? 

\- My name is Nyx.”

Plum shivers again, but for a different reason. That skeleton's voice was... deeply delicious to hear. This 'Nyx' was quite different from what he expected. At least he thought so, until his client spoke again: 

"Tell me, when you get paid, do you have to do everything you're asked?”

Lust froze. That's it, we were there... The moment that cute skeleton was about to reveal his sadistic face. Plum barely swallowed his saliva: 

“... Yes. That's right.”

Nyx closed his eyes to think, then opened them again and smiled broadly:

"Very well," he said. Can I ask you to wear an outfit?”

He was far too polite to make such a request. Plum was taken aback by the paradox between his attitude and his words. Not expecting the slightest answer, Nyx came to give him a small bag:

"Can you take off your clothes and put these on instead? 

\- ... B ... Of course I can ...”

Plum expected the worst. He got up and started to undress ... before he realized that his client was turning his back on him. Surprised, the prostitute didn't understand: usually people would stare at him at the edge of indecency. But this Nyx, on the contrary, gave him some privacy.

And he went from one surprise to another, since, once undressed, he discovered the contents of the bag ... and exclaimed:

"Is this a joke? Do you really want me to wear this?

\- Please, yes."

Completely forbidden, Plum then put on pink and purple pajamas. The first thing that struck him was the softness of the garment, and the pleasant smell that emanated from it, as if someone had taken care to wash them before bringing them here. The second thing that took him by surprise was when Nyx turned around and approached him, looking delighted:

"You look cute in that."

Plum got worse. It was the first time he had ever been told such a thing without it sounding obscene. Nyx surprised him again by giving him a new order:

"Now go to bed and get some rest."

Plum blinked, expecting anything but this:

"I... Are you sure?"

Nyx nodded his head. Confused, Lust slipped under the blanket and put his skull on the pillow. He watched his client turn off the light and leave only a bedside lamp on, before taking out a notebook and starting to scribble.

Plum decidedly didn't understand anything. This situation seemed completely unreal. Was he in the wrong room? Or had he lost consciousness and was he dreaming?

He didn't want to know the answer. He felt good, far away from the previous stress, his fear, his anxieties. He felt... strangely safe. 

So he closed his eyes.

He fell asleep.

* * *

He screamed in terror, clutching the sheets with violence. His soul was beating at breakneck speed, he did not realize that tears were clouding his vision, falling down his cheeks to wet the pillow. He sobbed, his fear could not calm down, his nightmare playing out in his mind. His breath was erratic, he was caught in cold sweat, his panic grew a little more each second ... 

Then we hugged him. He froze, lost, not understanding which of his arms were holding him gently, that warm torso that kept him close. By the time he remembered where he was and with whom, Nyx's voice came to him in a whisper:

"All is well... All is well...”

His client's phalanges came to gently caress his skull, in a protective and comforting gesture, and his warm voice continued to whisper:

"It's all right... I'm here, it's all right...”

Plum calmed down slowly but tears continued to fall. He huddled up against Nyx, hid his face in his neck while closing his eyes. He sniffed his scent and hoped to relax. A sweet smell, the smell of apples. 

Nyx's hand slipped into his neck, then over his spine and shoulder blades, before coming up to his head, snatching a sigh of comfort.

"All is well...”

Yes... Everything was fine...

Everything was fine... 

* * *

Plum gently fluttered his eyes, soothed and rested. At first he didn't understand what he was doing in that room, alone and in his pyjamas, with sunlight for company. He straightened up, yawned and stretched, then turned to the clock radio: 9:30. He had never slept so long before. 

And suddenly he remembered. He remembered that strange customer, that Nyx who had booked until 10 o'clock just to... let him sleep?

Completely confused, but above all embarrassed when he remembered his nocturnal awakening, Plum looked for his client. But we had to get used to the truth: Nyx had left and got all his things back. However, there was still something on the table nearby.

Curious, Plum stood up and approached. He saw his clothes carefully folded and visibly clean. Nyx had done a wash? But at what point? Disturbed at the most, the skeleton decided to get dressed but took care to put the pyjamas back in his bag. He did not know why, but he did not have the heart to throw it away ... After all, it was like a gift from his strange client, wasn't it?

But what finally astounded him was the letter on the table:

_ \- Fear not, little star. It's true that your life isn't the easiest, but you're the only one who can face it. You're brave, I know that. You are strong, you are tenacious. Those who only come to you for your body don't know they're missing the best of you.  _

_ Don't be afraid to make things happen, don't be afraid to change. Don't be afraid to make decisions you might regret. You have so much to live for, wouldn't it be a shame to continue on a path you don't like? _

_ Do things slowly, at your own pace, and don't hesitate to call for help when you need it. No one can blame you for having a weak moment, everyone does. _

_ Your brother is there for you. Ink is too. I'm sure Blue and Classic will have no hesitation in supporting and welcoming you.  _

_ The multiverse is so great that the number of possibilities are endless. And if you're still scared, if you want a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there. _

_ I will always be there for you. _

_ Nyx – _

Plum felt the tears come back to him. Moved by these words, he delicately turned the letter over, and this time a sob escaped him: there was a magnificent portrait of him drawn in his hand, a portrait that represented him radiant with joy. A portrait done with patience and passion, which touched him in the depths of his soul.

Plum wiped his tears from the back of his sleeve, slowly regaining his composure.

He was surprised to smile. To smile sincerely as he thought of that strange skeleton, that Nyx that had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. 

And he was filled with new determination. 

He was going to quit his job. He was going to declare himself to Grillby. To hell with the consequences, to hell with his fears and apprehension. It was time to make a choice, a crucial choice.

And Plum had done it.

And now...

Today would be the first day of his new life.

* * *

"Where have you been?"

Nightmare's icy question didn't even make Nyx flinch. Nyx had just teleported everything to his room and took care to tidy up his belongings without answering anything to his host.

And of course, Nightmare didn't like that.

His tentacles were faster than last time, more violent. They grabbed Nyx without the slightest gentleness and slammed him abruptly against the wall as their owner glanced at his unwanted guest in rage:

"Listen to me, as long as you live under my roof, you will keep me informed of your every move...!" 

He interrupted himself. He paused in front of Nyx's gaze, a gaze that made him terribly uncomfortable. It wasn't a look of fear, anger, or pain. It was ... a mixture of melancholy, sadness and guilt. Because Nightmare couldn't feel his emotions, and Nightmare was able to read his face.

And in that moment, Nyx was completely letting himself go, as if he was used to this kind of situation.

The master of the house was overcome with an unpleasant shiver. This guy, uh... At that very moment, he reminded him of the Nightmare of yesteryear, the Nightmare tortured by his fellow creatures.

His tentacles released him.

Nyx landed without difficulty, though a little surprised. He regained a slight smile when he saw that Nightmare seemed to be feeling guilty:

"Don't worry, it didn't hurt.”

Because he was trying to comfort him too? Damn it, Nightmare was getting less and less understanding of this guy, and he couldn't take it!

"Shut the fuck up! Just... (sighs) just say when you're going out, that's all!”

He stormed out of the door, angry.

Nyx pouffed with laughter, before losing what little joy he still felt. He collapsed on his bed, retrieving his sketchbook in passing, and silently observed the many drawings he had made of Plum.

He had a much bitterer smile, closing his eyes to ignore the tears that threatened to escape him.

He hoped that Plum, his adorable Plum, was finally happy. Anyway, he was going to see to it personally.

He took a breath and stood up, opened his eyes to fall in front of his reflection in the mirror not far from the bed.

He froze at the sight of his pupils turning blue.

"Damn...”

He closed his eyes, trying to regain control of himself. When he reopened them, his pupils were back to normal.

He blew, opened his notebook to a new page:

"I need to refocus on Ink...”

* * *

Nightmare stormed into his office, particularly pissed off at this parasitic cretin who was giving him pseudo dating advice. Shit, he knew less and less how to deal with this guy... Why would he do that? Why did he feel so bad around him?

He slumped down in his chair, huffed and puffed. 

There was a shy knock at his door.

Nightmare straightened himself up by raising an archway:

"Come in. " he allowed.

Killer entered the room hesitantly. Immediately, the master's senses were awakened, and he had to use violence to avoid showing the slightest bit of emotion to his partner. He closed the door behind him and approached the desk:

"Who does he have, Killer?

\- Hmm... Horror called you to eat. But when you didn't answer, I came to get you. 

\- I'm not hungry.”

To support his claims, he focused on a document of some kind, picking up his work where he had left off. But this reaction did not please Killer, who frowned, before going around the office to find himself close to his superior:

"Nightmare, you must eat! »

The thinly veiled order immediately caught the attention of the guard, who abandoned his paper to observe his lover. The lover shuddered, but he looked at him, not without praying inwardly that he would not be reprimanded.

Nightmare sighed.

"Very well, I'm coming. »

Killer didn't hide his stunned look when he saw his boss get up, and beautiful rashes appeared on his cheeks when his lover grabbed his hand to lead him to the kitchen. 

Killer couldn't get used to this sweetness and these signs of affection, and he didn't understand what had triggered it, what had made Nightmare change. But he could only rejoice and appreciate it, letting a broad smile be born on his face.

* * *

Ink sighed with lassitude, and for the umpteenth time, he scratched out one of his sketches while his reddish pupils testified to the anger that dwelt within him. He weighed, shook his head, forced himself to remain calm. His eye was drawn to his yellow vial, the source of the emotion of joy, but he used violence to avoid drinking it. He didn't want to be dependent on his vials anymore. Not as much as before. He wanted ... to learn how to handle it on his own, even if it was difficult, if not impossible.

He growled. Concentrated on the field of flowers he was trying to draw, pessimistic about the result, which he thought was mediocre, and once again scratched his work.

He couldn't take it anymore. Moving away from Error was slowly killing him, and it made him feel guilty. Nyx had struggled to help him, and Ink was screwing it all up!

Damn it, man...

He blew, sadly resting his notebook. He didn't feel like visiting Dream or Blue. His two friends were busy, and he didn't want to impose his presence on them.

But he needed to see someone, to talk, otherwise he'd go crazy.

And who better than his love advisor to lend him a sympathetic ear?

Ink retrieved his belongings and, with a skillful brushstroke, created a portal that led him to Nightmare, more specifically to Nyx's room.

The black-boned skeleton was lying on his bed, immersed in a novel that he had stolen from the castle library, devouring every word of the story as if he were living the situation described, an intense situation full of suspense that kept him on the edge of his seat, pushing him to squeeze the book a little tighter between his trembling phalanges. 

He was so in love with the story that he didn't notice Ink right away, and he was far too surprised to see his friend so focused to even think of mentioning his presence.

The painter was puzzled and rather happy. Happy to surprise Nyx in a moment of intimacy, a moment when he didn't seem to know everything at his fingertips, when he didn't seem able to foresee what was going to happen. And he thought that the black-boned skeleton was terribly cute like this: eyes sparkling with curiosity, turning the pages with greed. 

Ink did not have the heart to bother him. It seemed to him that this scene was most childish and adorable and he felt sorry to interrupt a relaxing session. So he decided to turn around and go through his gate... when he hit the chair at the desk, making a slight but sharp noise.

Nyx gasped, looked up at Ink in amazement. He himself seemed shocked that he hadn't noticed the Creator's presence, and it made him laugh:

"Well, for once you're the one who's surprised!”

Nyx blinked his eyes, before simply giggling and straightening up, gently closing his work:

"Hello Ink. Indeed, this is not usual.”

He tapped the bed, inviting the painter to come and sit beside him. Ink didn't ask for anything and did what he had to do, putting down his brush to be more comfortable. He looked at his comrade's book with an intrigued look on his face:

"What were you reading?

\- Crime and Punishment. I've read it before, but I tend to forget the stories I've already discovered. So I can re-read the same story and rediscover it again and again. 

\- Oh, you must read a lot! 

\- Ahah, I have a fickle memory.”

Ink was surprised and smiled: 

"Oh, like me! That makes us have something in common! »

Nyx put his book on the bedside table. A murmur escaped him:

"We have more than one... 

\- Did you say something?”

Nyx came back to him:

"I was asking if you were doing okay with Error.”

The Creator lost his smile. He lowered his eyes, coming to play with his scarf to make up for his discomfort:

"...not really. I'm sorry you gave me advice, but... It's not getting any better. I even feel like it's getting worse... I feel so bad about not seeing him... and I feel even worse when I realize that Error really doesn't care about me...”

Nyx came and put his hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it in a comforting gesture:

"No Ink, don't worry... You have to be patient ...

\- If you say 'Patience is the mother of safety', I'll sulk. 

\- Ahah, did we tell you too much?

\- Too much.”

Ink inflated his cheeks, wrenching a new laugh out of Nyx who sat a little closer to him, coming to make his phalanges smile in his neck like the first time, wrenching a sigh of comfort out of him before he relaxed.

Ink closed his eyes to better savor these sensations:

"It's crazy how good you are... Where did you learn this... ?”

He did not see Nyx's melancholy smile, the smile that accompanied his sad look:

"...it was a friend who taught me.”

Silence. Ink let himself go to these soft sensations, letting himself gently slide to end up putting his head on the other skeleton's lap. Nyx did not make the slightest comment. Neither of them were really bothered by such closeness, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And it was... but Ink didn't know how much.

“... Nyx?

\- Mm... ?”

The Creator was almost drowsy, lulled by his caresses.

“... Do you think I should continue to be stubborn?

\- You love Error, right?

\- Yes, I do... Yes, I do... But what's the point of going on if it doesn't lead to anything, if all I do is get hurt?”

He wasn't really expecting an answer and Nyx knew that, so he kept silent. Yet he tensed up as Ink continued:

"I wonder what would've happened if you hadn't intervened, if you'd let me go on with Night...”

Nyx's fingers are freezing. Alerted by the sudden tension of his comrade, Ink slowly opened his eyes again. But Nyx had already regained control of himself, resuming his caresses as if nothing had happened. Even his voice sounded normal when he answered, covering the Creator with a soft look: 

"Do you think it would have worked, that you would have healed each other's wounds? You hated each other at that time, and your relationship is calmer now because I suggested to Nightmare to calm down. Otherwise... Otherwise it would have ended badly. If you had come to date, to have an affair, you would have just taken a path with no possible turning back. »

Ink doesn't understand. He didn't understand why Nyx's voice was trembling, as if he was afraid of something. Something invisible to the eyes of the creator.

“... Nyx ... where do you come from?”

That question... again... 

And even though the answer burned his tongue, Nyx could not bring himself to submit it.

The slamming of the door surprised them both.

"'tin, Ink, when you come in, make sure to hide your aura! "an angry Nightmare cried as he entered the room, making sure to close the door behind him.

Ink straightened up sharply, confused to be pulled out of that strange moment between him and his friend.

"Ah...P-Pardon! "he stuttered to the landlord's address.

Nightmare seemed to notice the strangeness of the situation as he stopped, frowned on the arcades, shifting his gaze from Ink to Nyx, then from Nyx to Ink.

Finally it was Nyx who spoke again while standing up, acting in the same way as usual:

"I have a new idea about Error and Ink. If Ink still wants to play the game, of course. »

With these words he retrieved his notebook and a pencil. The Creator tilted his head to the side, then nodded timidly as he stood up. Nightmare growled:

"I don't have time for another plan. My men felt the aura of the Creator. I have to find an excuse before he suspects something.”

Nyx offered him his slight, almost mischievous smile:

"Why make an excuse?

\- I beg your pardon?

\- Here's my new plan: Ink should come and live here.”

Nightmare and Ink almost choked. They widened their eyes, stunned, before shouting in one voice:

"WHAT?!”

Nyx stopped smiling and scribbled on his notebook:

"Nightmare's calmed down, it's starting to show, both with his henchmen and in the multiverse. There's not really a reputation to keep in this case. I suggest that Ink stays here, with the excuse 'I'm watching the Bad Sans', which is a very valid excuse, isn't it?

\- But ... what's the point? asked the Creator.

\- That's the final plan. Now that you've ignored Error, we're going to show him that you've replaced him.

\- Replaced him?! 

\- By the Bad Sanses, but mostly by Nightmare. After all, you two are getting along better now. Let's play on that! The ultimate test for the Destructor's jealousy and attention! »

Nyx looked up at his two comrades who were watching him as if he had gone mad.

Finally, Nightmare sighed a long sigh:

"Tch, at this point...”

Ink hesitated longer. But his desire to conquer Error, the slim hope he still possessed, filled him with motivation. He regained an air of determination:

"All right," he said. Let's do this!”

Nyx smiles. The last act was going to be able to follow.


	4. [ Sweet mistake, isn't it? ]

“You're still here?!” 

Ink burst out laughing when he heard Horror's scream. He easily dodged a bone thrown in his direction and then dropped into the sofa, quietly putting his feet on the table:

“Indeed, this castle is very comfortable!”

The cannibal growled as he turned his head to the corridor: 

“CHIEF! INK STILL HITS THE INLAY!”

To which Nightmare didn't respond, probably because he was tired of always interfering. It had been almost four days since the Creator had been quietly squatting in their house, and the bad guys kept trying to kick him out. At least, when they saw him at the beginning of the day, they attacked him. Then after a quarter of an hour of chasing, they would give up and go back to their activities, not without grumbling against the artist.

After all, Nightmare didn't order them to catch their enemy or even shoot him down. He himself, as he left his office, ignored Ink to continue his daily routine. See, sometimes the master of the house would sit down next to the painter to watch TV or just exchange a few words. If at first it had seemed strange to his henchmen, they had decided that a little truce wasn't so bad after all. 

And so a fifth day went by. This time Ink was present for lunch and was happy to discover Horror's culinary talents. He joked with Dust and Killer, gave some tips to Cross so that he could dredge Dream without being caught by Nightmare ... and speaking of the nightmare master, he arrived towards the end of the lunch and sat down at the table, starting to eat while the others left the room.

Ink lingered however, smiling:

“I wasn't expecting this, but it's actually really cool at your place! 

\- Shut up, there's nothing cool about it! 

\- Ohlala, you're always so bad-faithful! Come on, admit it, you love them, your beloved henchmen!”

Nightmare glanced at him blackly, but did not attack him. That was also new: the goalkeeper took a lot out of him to stop his impulses, and that was really beneficial: his subordinates were less afraid of him, and he could now graze Killer without him panicking. 

“Of course he loves them.” Nyx replied for him.

The other two jumped, barely holding back a cry of surprise. They turned back to their friend who had once again appeared out of nowhere and quietly settled down at the table, coming to dive into the still hot dish that hadn't been cleared.

“Horror cooks really well,” he commented.

\- Don't be embarrassed.” Nightmare grumbled as he continued to eat himself.

Ink laughed softly:

“Hey Nyx. How's it going?

\- Very well, my goodness. How are you? You look tired.”

The painter had a poor smile:

“Oh, yes, I haven't been sleeping much lately, but don't worry! 

\- Are you worried that Error won't come?”

Ink did not answer but his evasive look was a clear answer. Nyx smiled briefly: 

“Don't worry. His patience has run out.”

His two comrades raised an eyebrow and looked at him, perplexed. They were about to interrogate him when they were interrupted by a loud noise. A noise coming from the entrance, followed by the cry of Dust.

Ink and Nightmare immediately abandoned their occupations to rush in from the ruckus, drawing their receptive weapons - brushes and tentacles - in preparation for battle. As for Nyx, he took another bite out of his meal, thinking that his role would soon come to an end. 

When he reached the entrance, Ink froze as he recognized the magic of his opposite, and his body shuddered violently as he met the angry gaze of the Destroyer.

Error was in an uncontrollable rage: 

“So you were hiding there you bastard!” cried the glitch who held Dust and Killer in his strings.

Seeing his lover in the hands of the Destroyer, Nightmare clenched his fists. He could have attacked but didn't want to take any ill-considered risks. He looked at Horror, who had fainted, having been thrown against a wall, and at Cross, who was also looking for an opening to attack despite a leg injury. 

He scolded, the anger growing stronger and stronger:

“How dare you enter my house and attack my subordinates?!

\- Shut up, you octopus!" Error replied. You have only what you deserve for taking MY painter from me!”

Despite the situation Ink felt violently blushed. However, he recovered by crossing Nightmare's icy gaze, took a breath and took a step:

“Error, could you... 

\- SHUT UP! ARE YOU HAVING FUN MAKING ME GO AROUND IN CIRCLES? YOU MUST HAVE LAUGHED WHEN YOU SAW ME LOOKING FOR YOU, EH? I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY!”

The Creator remained forbidden for a moment. Searching for him... ? Error had sought him?! He barely had time to be happy about it when he was attacked by Gasters Blasters. He dodged immediately, holding back a smile: he had missed his fights with his opposite, but now he couldn't give it his all. By then he was in the castle of Nightmare with the Bad Sanses. 

He was taken by the Destroyer who suddenly teleported behind him. Damn, he didn't pay enough attention! He closed his eyes waiting for the impact, but a scream of rage and lack of pain made him open his eyes again. He realized that Nightmare had stepped in, grabbing Error with his tentacles. 

Ink, although he blamed himself for doing this to his rival, took advantage of this moment to teleport himself back to Killer and Dust, immediately freeing them from their ties. He then turned his attention back to Error, who had managed to escape the tentacles and attacked Nightmare with all his might, his bugs becoming even more violent than usual. 

Nightmare, who seemed to be hitting him with a bit of difficulty, couldn't help but giggle:

“You seem to be pissed off at the mistake! Yet it seemed to me that you didn't give a damn about the artist! 

\- I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO CALLS HIM THAT!”

He was about to carry out a more violent attack but Ink intervened:

“ERROR THAT'S ENOUGH!”

And strangely enough, the Destroyer stopped dead in its tracks, while continuing to tremble with rage. The Creator looked him in the eyes, feverishly: 

“Nightmare's right... You've always rejected me, always told me I was nothing to you... Why are you reacting like this?”

Error's anger was replaced by immense confusion, then by palpable shame. He calmed down completely, even taking a step backwards, while looking away:

“Shut up, it's nothing to do with that!”

Ink looked down: 

“... You said you wanted to destroy me before Nightmare did, right?”

Error tensed up, looked at him with surprise:

“Wha... ?

\- You wanted to kill me with your own hands, you were afraid that someone would steal this feat from you. Don't worry about that, no one took it out on me. But please, if you want to kill me... wait until we are in a quiet UA, where no one will get hurt...”

The Destroyer became livid... and threw himself on Ink, grabbing him by the shoulders with force: 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I NEVER...”

He paused, gritted his teeth, bowed his head as the Creator raised his.

“... I don't fucking... I don't get it either... I...”

But Ink was no longer paying attention to his words, too shocked by something else:

“... E.... Error, you...”

The one who was questioned did not understand, straightened his face, and became impoverished when he saw how close he was to his opposite. His discomfort only increased when Ink added, tears in his eyes:

“... You're touching me...”

Indeed, he had touched Ink of his own free will. It shocked him as much as the artist, and again there was a long silence. Silence that was cut short by Nightmare who grumbled, annoyed:

“Hey, there are rooms, assholes.”

Error tensed up and began to move backwards, but was held back by Ink, who grabbed his wrists and suddenly teleported them. 

Nightmare looked up to the sky and joined his henchmen as they recovered from the attack. His footsteps naturally guided him towards Killer, whom he gently supported, before placing a hand on his cheek to force him to look at him:

“Are you all right?”

Killer got worse, unaccustomed to such attention.

* * *

Error clenched his fists, confused, unable to speak while Ink, sitting right next to him, silently watched the sky of OuterTale.

This was one of the only things they had in common: their love for this universe, for the stars that overhung them, that offered them the most beautiful and peaceful of spectacles.

But the Destroyer was not in the mood on that day. No, he was far too uncomfortable to be able to relax and enjoy the view. Much too uncomfortable because of what had happened just a few minutes earlier. Too uncomfortable to have lost control, to have been weak, to have been feverish in front of Ink, and especially in the presence of Nightmare.

Damn... (Sighs) He weighed down, resting his chin on his arms, themselves resting on his bent legs. Ink's silence didn't help the situation. That filthy painter who had ignored him for weeks... To think that Error had worried, only to discover that his opposite was the Bad Sanses. That he HAD FUN with the Bad Sanses! Damn, the multiverse wasn't going well at all.

“You've really been looking for me... ?”

He jumped, turned to Ink who looked at him timidly, who didn't dare believe what the Destroyer had told him. The Destructor returned to look up at the sky, embarrassed: 

“Perhaps... 

\- Yes or no?

\- Damn the painter... Yes! Yes, I've been looking for you, you little...”

He grunted, holding back yet another insult, tensing up as he felt the gaze of the artist examining him, gauging him.

“Why?” Ink asked again, as if he had a sickly need to satisfy his curiosity.

Error bugged for a moment. What could he say to that? Not the truth. Certainly not the truth!

“I missed you...”

FUCK! THAT WAS THE TRUTH! 

He slapped himself mentally not without noticing the stupefied expression on the face of his opposite. It almost made him laugh if he wasn't himself at his worst.

“... You missed me ... ? But you always pushed me away!”

Error growled again, coming to hide his face in his arms. He didn't want to continue this conversation, but he felt Ink would not let go of him. Then he sighed:

"Because you're a pain in the ass, always yelling and sticking me. But... But... But...”

He hesitated, searched for his words, before whispering softly:

“...in spite of everything, I care for you...”

Ink widened his eyes, his mouth wide open, unable to believe what he had just heard. He came a little closer to his opposite: 

“Say that again? 

\- No,” he said.

\- Error, please! 

\- NO!”

The artist puffed up his cheeks, crossed his arms and mimed sulking. This wrung a laugh from the glitch who gave him an amused look:

“You look stupid when you do that.”

Ink smiled back at him:

“I don't mind looking stupid if it makes you happy...”

At the same time, they both get angry and embarrassed by the line that had deliciously sounded in their ear canals. 

Ink looked away, decided to change the subject:

“I'm going to have to apologize to Night for the ruckus...”

Night', this all too familiar name made Error frown and lose his smile. His rage suddenly returned, almost as strong as before, grabbing his soul with brutality. His magic crackled with anger, alerting Ink, who didn't have time to react: he found himself on the ground, the Destroyer above him, blocking his wrists and overhanging him with his whole body, giving him a black look. 

“Only with me can you be this close. Only with me can you be as familiar. No one else.”

Ink felt a long shiver, both frightened and excited by this look, this voice.

“You are mine”

He came and kissed him violently, without trying to wait for his consent, wrenching a squeak out of the painter. He kissed him savagely, without the slightest restraint, attacking him as if to devour him, making him moan softly, provoking confused but full of desire cries as their two bodies stuck together, suddenly becoming far too hot despite the cool temperature of Outertale. 

Ink felt himself caught in this wave of new sensations, didn't notice that his pupils were changing shape too quickly in the excitement. His lower abdomen made him shudder, made him moan again, as he responded as best he could to the onslaught, seeking to deepen the contact with his soul mate. 

And in the midst of sighs and groans, as their caresses began to go much further, Ink clearly heard this murmur in his ear, this sigh released by his opposite:

“Don't ever leave me...”

* * *

The next day, Nyx was visited by Nightmare and Ink. Like the first time, the one with the black bones took his place at the desk while the artist sat on the bed and the master of the house leaned against the wall.

Ink was the first to speak, with an angelic smile on his face: 

“Error told me he missed me. He told me that even though I could be a pain in the ass, he cared about me a lot. This is clearly an innuendo to say that he loves me, isn't it? 

\- Depends, what did you do next? Nightmare asked.

\- We had sex all night !”

The nightmare master almost choked, clearly not expecting such a cash answer. He grunted and flipped the painter's finger, which the painter happily returned to him. Nyx smiled his usual smile and scribbled on his notebook, before turning to Nightmare:

“What about you?

\- Mm... I took care of Killer. For some reason I didn't understand, he was pissing me off. Then I found out that he was actually jealous that I was spending time with Ink.

\- Did you like that?”

Nightmare had a grin:

“Many. It pushed him to take initiatives to show that I belonged to him, but in the end I was the one who got the upper hand. 

\- Hey, you act shocked when I mention it but you fucked your man too! Bouda Ink.

\- Shut the fuck up! And we didn't fuck! We didn't...”

He blushes softly as he looks away:

“We made love. This is different.”

The eyes of the creator began to twinkle: 

"So cute! And you finally said 'I love you'?!”

Nightmare became even redder and growled an insult. Nyx and Ink smiled broadly: thus, their friend had indeed passed the test! Everyone had finally gotten what they wanted! 

“Ink! Chief! Let's eat!” Horror called from the kitchen.

The two didn't hesitate to head for the door, their stomachs screaming for food. Nightmare, however, stopped in the doorway, drawing the puzzled eyes of the other two. He seemed to think, then turned to Nyx:

“Do you want to come?”

The one with the black bones blinked his eyes, before letting a surprise look appear on his face:

“I thought I wasn't supposed to show my face?”

Embarrassed, Nightmare shrugged:

“Well, at this point...”

Ink smiles, waiting to see that Nightmare had finally accepted their friend.

Nyx also had a smile. A smile that was much bigger than usual, which showed the gentle warmth that had embraced his soul:

“Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to turn it down. I still have things to do.”

A little disappointed, the owner grumbled, but pretended not to:

“As you wish. I'll see you later.”

He left the room, followed by Ink who first made a small sign to Nyx. 

Remaining alone in his room, the black-boned one held his notebook gently against him. Nightmare and Ink ... he was glad he hadn't made a mistake: those two had a much better side than he thought. 

He tidied his things properly in his bag, then put it on his shoulder and looked one last time at the room he had occupied in recent weeks. Yes, he was really glad he had come here ... he was glad he had made a difference, that he had stopped that timeline from going as wrong as his own.

He had one last smile, listening to the distant laughter coming from the kitchen. And as he quietly teleported away from the castle, he couldn't stop his last words from escaping:

“Goodbye, fathers...”


	5. [ Interlude ]

_ Plum had awakened slowly, as always in the middle of the night. Like all the nights that lined his fucking existence. But he had neither the time nor the desire to feel sorry for himself, thinking that time was already running out, that he had to get up quickly. _

_ As he put his feet on the cold tile floor of the room, he shivered. He didn't take the time to dress more warmly, just putting on shoes in a hurry and rushing down the corridors. _

_ He had to calm down. He had to stay in control of himself, feel nothing. He knew that Nightmare was in the dream world, doing his job, but he knew his master and knew that too powerful negative emotions could pull him out of the dreams.  _

_ So Plum took it upon himself to think about positive things, painfully calming the frantic beating of his heart. _

_ He discreetly reached the basement door, the same door that led to the dungeons. He shuddered in disgust. A pungent smell of mould and dampness was coming through. He gritted his teeth, not managing to get used to it despite the number of his nocturnal escapades.  _

_ He checked that no one was around and took the stairs, descending suspiciously to the dungeons of the castle, which seemed a little more morbid each time. _

_ Each of his steps resounded, resounded against the stone walls, against the far too oppressive silence of this place .... Silence torn away by sudden screams. _

_ Plum froze, the anxiety reaching its climax, and he rushed without thinking in the direction of the screams, those screams that twisted his soul, which intensified his anguish. _

_ He stopped in a hurry in front of the farthest cell, did not take the time to catch his breath, which he was already throwing against the bars, clinging to it violently to freeze himself: inside the cell, lying on the ground, there was his young skeleton with black bones. His little skeleton whose hands were tied behind his back, whose eyes were blindfolded. His little skeleton curled up on itself, in a fit of tears and panic, screaming and groaning in terror. _ ****

**_[Fear of the dark]_ **

**_[Fear of being locked up]_ **

**_[Fear of silence]_ **

_ “NYX!” _

_ Plum had screamed loudly, his throat tied, his grip tightening on the bars, petrifying his young friend who stopped screaming, his breath still erratic. _

_ “Nyx ... said Plum more softly. I'm here, my angel .... I'm here ...” _

_ A sob. The young skeleton, in spite of his obstructed vision, managed to find the origin of the voice, to turn his head towards it:  _

_ “.... Plum ...? he blew, his voice hoarse. _

_ \- I'm here... " repeated the elder, trembling, sliding to the ground. _

_ Short silence, before Nyx stands up miserably, managing to drag himself to the bars, on his knees, exhausted, finding himself at the same height as his companion, although ... Nyx remained a little smaller than Plum, due to his younger age. _

_ Plum slid his hands through the bars, gently laying them on his boyfriend's wet face. His thumb wiped away the few tears that were still being shed, while his second hand struggled to undo the overly tight headband ... _

_ “Stop it," he said. _

_ Plum gasped :  _

_ "What? _

_ \- Don't take it off, you won't be able to tie the knot again after ... _

_ \- But...! _

_ \- ... Father already suspects something .... I don't want anything to happen to you ....” _

_ Plum clenched his teeth, feverish. He abandoned the idea of removing the blindfold for fear of reprisals. And he felt pathetic. Helpless and miserable. _

_ "If only I were stronger..." he sobbed reluctantly. If only I was able to protect you... !” _

_ Nyx had a slight smile. That sweet smile that he reserved only for those he loved, that he wished to comfort. Why was it to the victim to comfort others? Plum had never understood him, still didn't understand him. _

_ "Oh Nyx... I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry!” _

_ His hands left the headband to glide over the wet face again, caressing the small cheekbones gently, making their owner shiver. The one with the black bones came timidly to rest his head against the bars, imitated by Plum who came to glue their two foreheads. They would have liked to be closer, closer and closer, to hug each other, but this metal barrier prevented them from doing so. _

_ Plum slid his hand a little lower, gently grazing the neck of the youngest, then his spine and vertebrae. The tips of his phalanges gave shivers to Nyx who sighed at ease, letting himself go to this sweet attention, almost coming to relax while the older one covered him with a tender but still worried look.  _

_ "Master Cross is doing well... ? asked Nyx curiously, purring almost as he felt his fingers go up his neck. _

_ \- Yes, don't worry ..." Plum murmured. Nightmare hasn't discovered his double role yet...” _

_ Nyx sighed, tensing slightly, thinking of his master-of-arms who was venturing into dangerous terrain, just as Plum did. _

_ “... You must leave, Intima Nyx. It won't be long before my father returns...” _

_ The other gnashed his teeth, stopping in his caresses as a deaf anger embraced his heart: _

_ "This bastard doesn't deserve the title of 'father'... After what he's done, everything he's done... Everything he puts you through... !” _

_ Nyx could feel his companion's trembling, his rage intensifying with every word he said, his fingers clinging to his clothes as if for fear of seeing him disappear. _

_ The one with the black bones held back new tears. Tears of bitterness, guilt ... _

_ "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” _

_ Plum froze, widened his eyes: _

_ "W-What? No, Nyx, don't apologize... ! _

_ \- My father made you suffer so much ... I'm sorry ...  _

_ \- It's not your fault ! Don't take responsibility, you had nothing to do with it!” _

_ Nyx didn't answer. If he had answered, he would have exploded. He would have unleashed the tumult of feeling that was pulling him inside. This hatred and disgust for himself. This remorse, this regret, this life that he had not wanted, that he had never wanted. His whole being that was only the result of a falsified and unhealthy relationship, the quintessence of a series of stupid and pointless choices. _

_ He was silent, and Plum did not suspect for a second the thoughts that were running through his companion. Because Plum accused him of nothing, Plum loved him for who he was, Plum had done his best to support him and pull him up. _

_ And Nyx already knew that this would lead to his downfall. _

_ "Plum, you have to go... (Voice breaks) Please...” _

_ The other had a knot in his throat, but he knew he had no choice. If he was surprised, he didn't give much of his bones. So he reluctantly let go of his little skeleton. But before he left, he came tenderly, delicately, placing his teeth against his own:  _

_ "I love you, little angel... " he blew, his heart beating.  _

_ Nyx's tearful smile brought tears to his eyes: _

_ "I love you too, my little star...” _

* * *

Nyx opened his eyes. He hadn't fallen asleep. He no longer had the ability. But to find himself in a state of intense trance, to be immersed in such a vivid memory, pushed him more than he thought he could. 

He slowly straightened himself up, empty orbits, without pupils. The lapping of the water accompanied him in his momentary lethargy while by instinct he grabbed his scarf, a poor attempt to come back to him and give himself courage.

He blinked softly, he didn't need to observe his reflection to know the state of his pupils.

Blue. Blue as ice. As cold as the pain that bit his soul.

He gritted his teeth, brought his legs back to him, hid his face in his hands.

He wanted Cross. He wanted Plum. He wanted Ink.

He wanted to go home.

But he couldn't. He couldn't anymore.

He had condemned himself from the beginning.


	6. [The result of our mistakes, the consequences we feared]

When he looked at the child who was playing a little further away, Nyx found himself smiling. Smiling painfully, his soul squeezing together in spite of himself, in spite of the fact that he only wanted to be happy, that he only wanted to enjoy the view.

Because PaperJam did not deserve to be hated. Far from it.

Oh, Nyx knew he was a voyeur, a little too much so. No wonder people thought he was a stalker. But he couldn't stop this ugly mania from resurfacing, from pushing him to hide in the shadows to analyze, examine, spy without the slightest guilt.

He wasn't doing anything wrong after all, was he? He laughed at the thought, thinking himself ridiculous, but mostly in bad faith. One more thing he and his father had in common. One more thing in common that made him grind his teeth.

He shook his head, returned to his observation of PaperJam.

The announcement of his birth had reached Nyx's ear canals without much trouble. After all, the black-boned skeleton was particularly attentive to everything that was going on in the multiverse, especially since his little "adventure" with Nightmare and Ink. And it was hard to ignore the fact that Error, the Destroyer of the World, and Ink, the guardian of those same worlds, were finally a happy couple who had given birth to a child: PaperJam.

Nyx had come to observe the fruit of this union. This child, this small adorable skeleton, who was currently heckling in the snow in company of Fresh, another inhabitant of the multiverse and incidentally brother of Error.

PaperJam, who was only a few months old, had the size and abilities of a six-year-old child. No wonder: he had been created by the accidental fusion of his two parents' magics. It was crazy to see how much he resembled them, and deep down, deep down... 

**[ Nyx hated it ]**

He petrified. No, he didn't. No, he couldn't think that. He couldn't look so bitterly at that child. He couldn't blame him for being born, for existing. He couldn't blame anyone. After all, he knew it would happen. He knew the Creator and the Destroyer would eventually start a family.

Nyx had only hoped it would take longer.

Damn it, man... 

He gritted his teeth, clutching his scarf with force. His soul pulsed faster, much too fast, with emotions he hated. Negativity that he was struggling to master.

Shit, man... Shit... (sighs) !

He shook his head, closed his eyes, tried to divert his mind from his foul thoughts. He hated himself for thinking like that, he hated himself for being angry at people who had done nothing. He was the culprit, the one and only culprit. He, uh...

He blew, gently opened his eyes, his fists clenched. He'd better go now... 

He straightened his head, ready to teleport further away to open a portal .... And froze. He froze in front of that pink, yellow and blue look in his eyes. That look of innocence and curiosity that had been planted in his eyes, staring intrigued at him. PaperJam looked at him.

Nyx flinched. No, he must have been imagining things, it was impossible for the child to see him. After all he was just a shadow, a shadow hidden in the darkness, invisible to anyone's eyes. It was impossible that... 

But it had to be when Fresh turned away from the child to get them a snack. It was obvious when PaperJam took advantage of his uncle's inattention and walked towards him.

It must have been obvious when the child faced him, stopping a few steps away from him:

“Why do you look sad, mister?”

Nyx didn't think he'd revealed himself that well. Unless the kid's just too perceptive? Maybe so, and that realization made him smile.

He took a step, tearing himself away from the shadows to return to his original shape without seeming to surprise the child. The child must already have been seeing a lot with his parents.

“Curiosity is a bad thing, Jammy.”

The little one puffed up his cheeks:

“You started it, you've been staring at me all this time! And how do you know my name?”

His voice was thin, sweet, full of innocence. This time, Nyx's smile became more sincere, he even allowed himself to laugh at the sulky look of the youngest: 

"You're right, you're right. I'm a very curious skeleton myself. You seemed to be having a good time, it intrigued me. »

PaperJam tilted his head to the side, coming a little closer to him again:

“You like to look at people ? Like Daddy's friend?

\- Daddy's friend ?

\- Yes, my daddy ! My daddy Ink! He has a boyfriend who loves to appear out of nowhere and listen to people's conversations! He's even the one who helped my dad get in a relationship with my dad!”

Nyx barely hid his stunned expression, but he could not control the emotion that warmed his soul, giving him a sudden and strange urge to cry. Ink ... had spoken of him? Even though he barely knew himself and Nyx had disappeared overnight and never came back?

The child suddenly had a sad pout:

“Daddy is not happy because his friend doesn't come to see him anymore. He looked for him everywhere, but ... he's nowhere. Father has already reproached him by telling him to stop looking for him, that it was useless, but Daddy doesn't want to hear anything ...”

And Nyx felt guilty again. So even here, he was divisive? What a cruel joke... He had no trouble imagining Error and Ink's fights, he had already been to some of them and felt bad that Paperjam had to endure that. Not to mention the way he called his parents... "Dad" for Ink was still on. But calling Error "Father"...

Nyx didn't like it. "Father" was too serious, put a distance between parent and child. Unless it was his own experience that was clouding his judgment?

To be honest, he didn't want to think about it. He only wished to erase the pain that had appeared on the child's face.

Nyx crossed the last meter that separated him from the little one, before simply kneeling at his height, regaining his slight mischievous but comforting smile. His hand came naturally to caress PaperJam's skull, arousing the surprise of the little one who looked up at him, confused.

"You should tell your daddy to stop looking for his friend ... if you tell him that, he'll stop, I'm sure he will.

\- B-But he'll be sad...

\- Maybe, but it'll pass. After all, you and Error are there to support him!”

Besides Ink wasn't dependent on him either. In a few months, he would probably have forgotten that. It was even surprising that he hadn't already...

“Sir? Why do you still look sad?”

The elder one tensed up. Decidedly, this little one was far too perceptive. It was confusing. Nyx wasn't used to being seen in the light, he always managed to hide his feelings from others.

“... I'm not sad. 

\- You're a liar.”

Nyx felt his throat closing.

**[Yeah, he was a liar]**

PaperJam's smile returned:

“Uncle Dream he has a great technique so that people are not sad anymore !”

Nyx didn't get a chance to respond. He froze, stunned, as he felt the small body grasping and curling up against him, in a soft embrace devoid of negativity.

**[His soul missed a beat.]**

Nyx felt his throat tighten, a flood of memories assailing him in spite of himself. Yes... he remembered it perfectly well. Dream had always been fond of a hug, no matter when or where. Comforting hugs that meant "I'm here for you, you can count on me."

He held back a sob, responded feverishly to the embrace.

**[This child didn't realize...]**

**[He didn't realize how much harm he was doing to him.]**

* * *

Linger a long, long time on the same subject, the same reflection. To question oneself, to hesitate, to cover the room with a confused look before returning to the blank sheet of paper.

Ink wasn't used to being uninspired. Never. It was one of the worst situations that could happen to him. He liked to scribble, to create, to make others dream with his creations, he found himself like an idiot looking at the same blank sheet of paper for already ... for how long already? Oh, he didn't know, maybe several hours.

At the same time, how could he have had the slightest inspiration with the anguish that was devouring him? He and Error had fought again, always on the same subject. The subject of Nyx. The painter had seen fit to tell his lover about the black-boned skeleton and his ideas for putting them together. He should have known that the Destroyer wouldn't like the news... 

Oh no, Error had not liked at all to learn that a stranger had taken the liberty of giving them advice and insinuating himself into their private life. Ink had made a good case that he was doing it for their own good, but the Destroyer hadn't believed a word of it. To him, Nyx was just a skeleton profiteer who had come to watch a 'show'. After all, he had vanished after getting what he wanted! The question remained: why did he want to help Nightmare and Ink?

The Creator sighed as he recalled their argument :

_ “That guy didn't give a shit if it worked, he just wanted to laugh at you taking his advice!" exclaimed the raging Glitch. _

_ \- He took the time to listen to us and comfort us, and his advice was good! The proof: we're together now! _

_ \- I had come to kill you! Can you imagine if I didn't stop in time? If I'd gone too far without realizing it? _

_ \- You wouldn't have f... _

_ \- You don't know that! Damn it Ink, I've failed to kill you countless times! This time could have turned out the same! And your stupid 'Nyx' wouldn't have interfered!  _

_ \- When did you know? You stopped before it got dangerous and... _

_ \- Where was he during the fight then? Because I didn't feel any unknown magic in the castle! Just yours and the magic of the bad guys! Let's face it: he ran away when he saw that things could get bad, and came back like a flower afterwards, only to disappear again the very next day! This guy is not your 'friend'!” _

_ Ink had felt his magic crackle with anger as his pupils turned red. But he had said nothing, because he knew his lover was too stubborn to listen to any argument. Instead, he had weighed and gone to the living room, and slumped down on the sofa where he had started drawing. He had vaguely heard Error growl a 'There you go again, you're still pouting' before he heard him leave he didn't know where. _

_ Then he sighed: Luckily Paperjam was with Fresh. He wouldn't have liked his little darling to see another one of their fights... _

Returning to the present moment, Ink rested his drawing stuff with annoyance. He couldn't wait for an inspiration that wouldn't come, just as he couldn't wait to be alone in this house that seemed too big to him when his family was away. He loved his son and his husband with all his being, cherished them as he had never cherished anyone before.

God, he hated arguing with Error ... 

He huffed and puffed and got up, thinking that a little outing wouldn't hurt... until he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the name Fresh on his screen and immediately worried, eagerly picking up the phone: 

“Fresh, hello? Something wrong with Jammy?

\- Hey, yo Dude, calm down! Don't worry, the kid's fine, at least as far as I can see.

\- From what you see?

\- Yep, I don't want to get too close because I'm confused, but... your buddy you're looking for is a black-boned skeleton, right? With a gray scarf, purple coat?”

Ink held his breath for a moment, feverishly:

“...yes?

\- ... Jammy was talking to a guy who looked exactly like that.

\- I'M COMING!”

He let go of his phone to grab his brush, skillfully traced a portal that he crossed in a second as his soul - a very recent soul born of his union with Error - was racing at breakneck speed, his mind overwhelmed with mad hope. 

He landed in a snow like all the other versions of Snowdine. However, he quickly turned away to pay attention to his son, his Jammy, his treasure ... holding a black-boned skeleton in his arms in a tender embrace. 

“NYX!”

The arrested person stood up sharply, walking away from the child with a guilty expression, as if he had just been caught at fault. He turned a panicked look towards Ink, a look that surprised the Creator. It was the first time he had seen the black-boned one lose his way. 

But Nyx was faithful to his habits, took back his marble mask in an instant, not without addressing his characteristic smile, that slight mischievous smile.

“Hello, I...”

He was interrupted by the Creator who threw himself into his arms, making his eyes wide open as they both fell into the snow, lying one on top of the other. Flickering his eyes without really understanding what had just happened, Nyx looked at Ink, straightened up slightly, and finally sat on top of him.

“You...”

The painter's voice vibrated with palpable anger. An anger that burst out when he planted his red pupils in Nyx's:

"ABRUPT! WHERE WERE YOU WERE? THREE MONTHS WITHOUT ANY NEWS, BUT WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? NIGHTMARE AND I LOOKED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE! »

Nyx was far from expecting such a reaction:

“... You've been looking for me?

\- Of course I did! Damn, you disappeared like that, without saying anything! At first we thought you'd gone for a walk ... then a day went by, two, three... We thought you had a problem, that maybe you were hurt, that you couldn't go home! You just... You can't just go off and leave people high and dry!”

The Creator takes his breath, his pupils lose that angry glow and turn into a softer gaze:

“... God, you're really abusing... 

\- ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry…

\- ... Yes, you can be...”

Ink sighed, before finding a more tender smile:

“... But you're here now. In the flesh. Well, mostly in the flesh!”

He laughed and Nyx had great difficulty in retaining his own smile. The Creator finally decided to get up and helped his friend to do the same, while PaperJam shyly approached his daddy:

“Daddy, is he your friend ?”

Ink became even happier when he came to take his son in his arms:

“Yes Jammy, it's him! 

\- B-ben he didn't even tell me!”

The artist pouffed at the disgruntled look on his little boy's face. He gently kissed his cheekbone before coming to tickle his belly, wrenching a pretty laugh out of him:

“You're not going to sulk like that! Besides, even though he's my friend, I've already told you to stay away from strangers! 

\- But I know how to defend myself, daddy!”

Nyx softened by this adorable vision. A father and son playing innocently together, with love and complicity, as if they were each other's greatest treasure.

_ Nyx didn't understand, much too young to grasp the whole picture. Much too young to know that he shouldn't grab Ink's hand, let alone in this situation: _

_ “Pop-“ _

_ He hit the ground violently, repelled by the being who should have protected him, pulled him out of that hell. Pushed back by Ink who looked at him as if he was the worst horror in the world: _

_ “How many times do I have to tell you to stay away? Go back to Nightmare before I send you back there myself!” _

Nyx flinched, coming back to himself after that short, very short flashback that had hit him hard.

“Nyx? Nyx? Are you all right?” Ink inquired worriedly noting this moment of absence.

The black-boned one didn't answer right away, as if disturbed by something the Creator couldn't grasp. But then again, he regained control of his emotions, too quickly for Ink to ask any questions:

“Yes, it's alright. Why don't you tell me a little bit about the last three months?”

Nyx had resumed his curious and amused expression while the painter sighed:

“Damn, if you only knew! But why don't you come to my house for tea, we'll be more comfortable there to talk!”

The one in the grey scarf willingly accepted, not without an inner laugh: he already knew that the next few hours would be nothing but complaints about Error.


	7. [These links are invisible, but they're not nothing.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insomnia belongs to EnaPouyou

Listen the song on youtube : [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GcwwW7MuWk)  


* * *

_ He looked at length at the grass that stretched out in front of him, the blue sky without any clouds above him. He sniffed the air, that sweet floral fragrance of softness and freedom, and as he sat more comfortably against the stump of tree he had found, he took out his notebook to slide the tip of his pen over the blank paper, as he gently whispered this melody whose origin he no longer knew:  _

_ “Mon trésor, prends ma main ..” _

_ The sound of the pencil in action, the sweet smell of ink mixed with the bluish colour ...  _

_ “Serre-la fort, tout ira bien ...” _

_ He drew a first face, his hand waving by automatism, his memories as the only model for his work.  _

_ “Je suis là, ne crains rien...” _

_ Two silhouettes, the shape of a soul between the two beings, then the more fleeting trace of a third person, a smaller silhouette than the first two.  _

_ “Mon cœur bat contre le tien...” _

_ He forsook the third being to concentrate on the two larger ones, bringing them details, relief, playing with shadows, contrasts, the nuances of his unique colour.  _

_ “Et si l'avenir te fait peur, tourne la page ... Dessine un ciel plein de couleurs, un nouveau pays... “ _

_ His pen ceased all movement as he hesitantly ran through his barely finished drawing. Not the slightest landscape, he did not feel capable of making one, did not have the slightest idea of which to transcribe on paper. The trio of skeletons in front of his eyes seemed too false to him, like a terrible lie he was trying to swallow. _

_ “... sache que l'encre des souvenirs ne sèche pas ...” _

_ He closed his eyes, clutching his modest work to his chest, ignoring the barely dry ink that stained his clothes and the paper he crumpled gently.  _

_ “Qu'entre tes mains peuvent s'écrire d'autres "il était une fois" ...” _

_ He was silent, with a heavy heart, ready to cry. _

_ A familiar hand rested gently on his shoulder, delicate and comforting. Nyx reopened his eyes, turned his head to meet the gaze of his beloved uncle: _

_ "Dream... ?” _

_ The Dream Keeper gave him a smile: _

_ "It's nice what you were singing... What was it?” _

_ Nyx lowered his eyes, a poor sneer came to be born on his face: _

_ "I don't know... I could hear Plum singing it sometimes...” _

_ He felt his uncle tensing up. _

_ “... Nyx... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _

_ \- Why my uncle?” _

_ The black-boned skeleton raised his eyes, giving the adult a heart-rending smile: _

_ "It wasn't you who killed him.” _

* * *

Nyx opened his eyes. For a brief moment he looked up at the ceiling above him, in that near-darkness that made him shudder. Only the light coming from the corridor prevented him from giving in to a panic attack, even though his mind was still too overwhelmed by the memory that had assailed him.

He didn't like the past playing tricks on him.

He breathed, realizing that to relive such a realistic memory, he must have been in a semi-somnolent state. And that was not acceptable, not at all. Because he was no longer supposed to be able to sleep, rejected by the world of dreams that did not accept his presence.

And anyway, he didn't need to sleep anymore. His body was going without without a problem at all.

Another sigh. He wanted to straighten up, but refrained from doing so, feeling a weight against him. Perplexed, he lowered his eyes and managed to discern, thanks to the little light, the shape of a small skeleton drowsing against his chest. 

PaperJam.

Nyx had a tender smile, came to slide his hand behind the little one's back to gently caress him. 

It was a bit embarrassing for the older one: at first, he didn't want to be here. But Ink, too happy to see him again and convinced that Nyx didn't have a home of his own - which wasn't wrong - had insisted like a madman to take him in for the night.

So Nyx found himself in the guest room without really having a choice. Even so... He could have teleported away from here, started running away from Ink again, and concealed his presence from everyone. But ... he didn't want to risk hurting the painter, nor PaperJam who seemed - for some strange reason - to have become attached to him.

And Nyx felt bad. It was wrong to hide so much from those two. Bad for giving up Ink. Bad to be so jealous of PaperJam who hadn't done anything...

He covered the child with a tender glance, continuing not to reflex to caress his back, while letting himself go to his dark thoughts.

Error had not returned this evening. Apparently he had left after an argument with Ink and, according to the artist, he would not return until the next day.

Nyx knew it was his fault.

**[It was always his fault]**

His hand stopped caressing, he swallowed.

His body vibrated.

An icy blade seemed to pierce him, as terror and anguish took hold of his limbs, his soul began to pulse with force. 

He teleported himself by reflex, but his magic did not allow him to go far enough. He collapsed right next to the bed, barely made it to the bedside table, cold sweats running through his whole being.

He clenched his teeth, barely holding back a plaintive groan, trying to keep control of the pain that made him shake, and, as every time, as every fucking time, he was seized with convulsions and a frightening urge to cry.

His complete will could only allow him to scan the room with his eyes ... before he saw his bag, abandoned on the desk.

He squealed, tried to get up, but his legs suddenly flew away, causing him to fall, falling to his knees. 

**[No]**

He tried again, leaning on his hands, on his palms and phalanges which were no longer even able to stay still. 

**[No no no no no !]**

He hiccuped, tapped into its magic, but its instability only brought him one more pain, a throbbing, heart-rending pain that emitted a sinister crack from his soul. 

**[He needed it]**

**[HE NEEDED IT NOW]**

“... Nyx?”

He petrified, alerted by the little voice of PaperJam. He raised his head, saw that the child had straightened up by rubbing his eyes. And if the little one was still half asleep, it was quite different when he saw the state of the older one.

"Wh- Nyx?!”

He climbed down from the bed in panic, rushing to the collapsed skeleton ... before hiccupping when Nyx grabbed his wrist, with a violence he didn't know.

"Jammy, shut up, I beg you, shut up... !”

He had whispered loudly, his tremors redoubling in intensity. Ink shouldn't hear them, shouldn't see him like that!

PaperJam, confused and frightened, had however no difficulty to execute himself and gently nodded his head, before Nyx, who let out a sob, begged him again, close to losing consciousness:

"My bag ... I need my bag ... !”

The child didn't understand why, but nodded his head again, hastily retrieving the bag that was too big for him, which he led to Nyx with difficulty. Because he was afraid, afraid to see his new friend in such a disastrous state. His friend who seemed to be suffering so much...

Nyx grasped the bag without a shadow of relief, plunging his hands inside, searching with dull anguish for the source of his relief. 

And he found him. 

PaperJam widened his eyes, unbelievingly observing the dark apple that was pulled out of the bag, but what made him shudder was the way Nyx threw himself on it, devouring it with a great bite, not trying to savour it but to swallow it, to swallow it as quickly as possible, without leaving a single trace of it.

The child retreated, livid, feverish in the face of this spectacle that he found atrocious. How could it have been otherwise when he saw Nyx, usually so calm, twisting and groaning painfully, unable to hide his terror and his pain?

But it all stopped abruptly, as suddenly as it had happened. Nyx calmed down suddenly, his body stopped shaking. For a few minutes, he remained on the ground in silence, as if he was coming to his senses, that he was coming to.

He blinked his eyes, turned his head towards PaperJam.

Once again, Jammy saw him. He saw behind this marble mask, this false face that Nyx stubbornly wore without understanding why. He saw all the guilt and sadness in the older man's eyes.

"J-Jammy... Sorry, you shouldn't have seen that...

\- ... Why should I?"

Nyx didn't answer, looked away feverishly. 

The child felt his soul clench. Before Nyx could react, he came to throw himself into his arms, imprisoning him in an embrace that was meant to be tender and comforting:

“... It's going to be all right, Nyx ... It's all right, Nyx ... okay? It's going to be okay...”

The one with the black bones remained forbidden, before delicately responding to the hug ... then to bury his face in the neck of the youngest one, to start shaking once again, feeling the tension fall back, his panic disappear ... 

"Don't tell dad... ! cracked Nyx who started sobbing. Don't tell anyone... 

\- ... Yes, I promise...”

PaperJam squeezed the larger one a little harder, welcoming his distress with the slightest hesitation. But even as he focused on his friend's condition, the child didn't fail to notice one thing. He had not failed to hear the way Nyx spoke of his father.

Nyx who had clearly called Ink "Dad". But that too was a secret he should keep, wasn't it?

* * *

The adorable chirping of a young baby echoed like a sweet melody in the huge salon of the castle. The chirping followed by a pretty childish laugh, before the tiny being who was playing on the carpet fell backwards, losing its little balance to be received by carefully placed cushions so that it would not get hurt.

“He's still cute, commented Dust, who watched the little one from the couch.

\- What do you mean 'still'? Killer grunted and elbowed him. 

\- Aha, you're getting offended too quickly, Kil'!”

Horror put his head through the kitchen door:

“It's his son Dust, no wonder he's so protective! 

\- We didn't ask you!” replied the skeleton of dust.

And the baby started chirping again, flapping his legs and hands in an attempt to stand up. Waiting, Killer came to his son's aid, gently reassured him:

“That's it, Insomnia, you're doing great!”

At that moment, Nightmare and Cross entered the room. The baby's smile grew bigger as he reached out his arms towards the nightmare master, still laughing innocently, his left eye shining with a lovely bluish glow.

Nightmare stopped dead in its tracks, staring hesitantly at the child. Finally, after a few seconds, he sighed and his tentacles came to seize the child, before carrying him to his arms. Since Insomnia's birth, the Nightmare Keeper had been confused: he didn't know how to raise a child properly and felt unfit to fulfill his role as a father. The proof was that he was most uncomfortable holding his son in his arms. But fortunately, his lover was there to support him and the rest of his team of broken arms.

“How was your day?” Killer asked as he joined the master of the house, kissing him chastely to welcome him.

Nightmare nearly blushed and simply grumbled:

“Still nothing. He's nowhere to be found.

\- Ink hasn't given any news either?

\- No, he hasn't.”

The tentacle skeleton went off to the couch while gently holding his son in his arms. Cross exchanged glances with Killer and Dust, before nervously twitching his fingers. Finally he took his courage in both hands and looked at his superior:

“... Nightmare ... That 'Nyx' that you and Ink talk so much about... Maybe we should stop looking for it?”

He petrified at the sudden emanation of negative emotions. Nightmare was angry, very angry, and his hoarse voice shook each of his subordinates:

“Say that again?

\- ... I'm sorry, it's just... We've been looking for three months. Maybe he's... I mean, he's... ?”

Nightmare rose abruptly, too abruptly. For some reason, which he could not explain, the absence of Nyx irritated him greatly. This instructive skeleton, who had been squatting in his house for weeks before disappearing like that, in a snap of his fingers! We did not make such a blow to the masters of nightmares, not without assuming the consequences... !

He suddenly froze, taken by Insmonia who started to cry. The poor baby couldn't understand why his father was screaming, nor why everyone seemed so scared. Large salty drops came pouring down his face as his sobs had replaced his pretty laugh.

“In... Insomnia...” stuttered Nightmare, feeling a terrible panic take hold of him when he didn't know how to react, like calming his child.

Killer quickly joined him, kissing his son on the forehead, caressing his face with the tips of his fingers while whispering words to calm him down. 

But Insomnia did not calm down, not at all. 

Until the understanding of a voice full of gentleness, a voice coming out of the shadows that sang a melody:

_ “Mon trésor, prends ma main ... _

_ Serre-la fort, tout ira bien. _

_ Je suis là, ne crains rien. _

_ Mon coeur bat contre le tien. _

_ Et si l'avenir te fait peur, tourne la page. _

_ Dessine un ciel plein de couleurs, un nouveau pays, sache  _

_ Que l'encre des souvenirs ne sèche pas ... _

_ Qu'entre tes mains peuvent s'écrire d'autres "il était une fois" ...” _

Insomnia slowly softened, ceasing to cry in favour of listening to this unknown song, this song that insinuated itself into him, that cradled him tenderly as he began to babble again. Surprised, the Bad Sanses and their leader scanned the room, looking for the source of this music ... Only to come across Ink and PaperJam standing quietly in the doorway.

“Wha... Ink! growled Nightmare, still holding back from screaming so as not to scare Insomnia. I told you before not to go in unannounced.

\- That doesn't stop you from leaving your door open every time I want to come in!” replied the artist, sticking out his tongue.

The master grumbled, but said nothing back. Killer raised a perplexed eyebrow:

“Ink, was that you singing?

\- Ahah, no, not at all! It was him!”

The locals followed Ink's finger pointing to the shadow of the couch, before that same shadow was lifted off the floor to swirl and take on the appearance of a skeleton. A skeleton that Nightmare recognized immediately, making his eyes widen:

“Nyx?!”

Then he looked at Ink:

“You found him and you didn't tell me?!”

Then turned again to Nyx:

“And you little bastard, you dare to reappear like that ... ?!”

Insomnia's new sobs interrupted him again, and he received the accusing looks of his comrades. 

Nyx giggled and approached:

“You can argue with me all you want, but afterwards if you want to.”

He leaned gently over Insomnia. The baby immediately stopped crying, intrigued by this newcomer who gave him a little smile ... and made him burst out laughing with a ridiculous grin. 

Nightmare and Ink blinked, blissfully, while PaperJam also started to laugh. Nyx stopped his grimace to pouffe in his turn, tearing a smile from the bad guys.

Killer came to recover his son before his lover had another tantrum:

“Gentlemen, if you have anything to say, don't say it in front of the baby!”

Nightmare pouting but listened to his lover, brutally grabbing Nyx and Ink with his tentacles before taking them to his office.

* * *

The door slammed brutally. Nyx held a shiver as he felt the tentacle release it. He cleared his throat, dusted off his clothes to hide his discomfort as he felt the eyes of the other two skeletons on him. 

“Insomnia is very cute,” he commented to break the ice.

Nightmare snapped his tongue, deeply annoyed.

“I don't care what you say. Where the hell have you been?

\- Here and there, sailing the multiverse.”

He held back a squeak when an appendix brushed against his cheek, narrowly missing to skewer it. But Nightmare had dodged it on purpose, not wanting to hurt him despite what he let on.

“I warned you... he growled. I told you to always warn me when you left my house, you cheeky little man!”

But the master of the place froze in contact with Ink's hand on his shoulder:

“Come on come on, we've yelled at him enough, he understands!

\- Wha... Don't you interfere! 

\- Oh, come on Night, say it frankly that you were worried instead of making your bad face! 

\- Don't call me that! And I wasn't worried !! 

\- Oh, I knew you were a tsundere at heart !

\- Damnit Ink!!”

Nyx felt a gentle warmth take possession of his body as he watched the two skeletons squabble with complicity. The two really liked each other in the end, having become good friends, and the black-boned skeleton didn't know how to react, except to feel immense relief. 

He really didn't think it would turn out so well.

He smiled:

“Well, now... So I'm warning you that I'm leaving this step.”

He turned around... only to be suddenly grabbed with both arms. Ink and Nightmare had grabbed him at the same time, puckering the arches:

“Is this a joke? said the nightmare master.

\- I'm sure you don't even know where to go! continued the painter. 

\- Are you at least eating properly? You look like you're ready to fall apart at any moment!

\- It's true, it seems you're even more tired than when we met!”

Nyx swallows, looking at the other two with incomprehension while starting to curse himself: he was acting so badly that his weakness was so easily perceived?

"It's just that ... I don't want to impose myself ...

\- Are you kidding me?! Nightmare exploded. You came into your own the first time we met! You've been crashing into our lives and into MY castle without letting us get a word in edgewise! You even managed to manipulate us at will! So now you shut up and listen to us! 

\- But... (laughs)

\- Your fucking room is still empty and we've been cleaning it up since you left! So now you put down your bags and relax, because we're not about to let you go!”

Nyx, with his throat tied by emotion, vainly hid his joy behind his mischievous smile:

“So you're sequestering me?”

The tentacles fluttered as the guard grunted:

"Exactly! I'll take you in the Bad Sanses, you're going to pay me the rent you owe me!”

Ink looked up at the sky:

“A real tsundere.

\- We didn't ask your opinion !”

The painter gave him the finger of honor, Nightmare did the same, and Nyx was about to cry.

All this was very much like the family life he had dreamed of.


	8. [From a common everyday life is born a form of tenderness]

The noise of the hotplates and the sweet smell of eggs and bacon had invaded the whole kitchen and a good part of the castle. A pleasant way to wake up and start a long day, in short.

But not for Horror, who had been awake for six hours as usual and was the one preparing breakfast.

Oh, he normally loved to cook and prepare good food for the whole castle! But this time, as it happens, he hated it. He hated it because he didn't understand WHY Nyx was already up and staring at him, sitting quietly at the table! 

“For the umpteenth time, the cannibal growled.

\- Why?”

Nyx had asked with a vague innocence, but Horror guessed his amused and mischievous smile. 

“Because it's embarrassing shit! Go back to sleeping in instead of bothering me!”

The black-boned skeleton laughs at his vulgarity: 

"I'm not sleepy. Besides, it's nicer to have company, isn't it?"

The cook growled. That new guy was right. Even though he loved to cook for everyone, he was always a little sad to be alone in the kitchen when everyone else was busy. But damn it, that didn't mean he liked being fixed that way! 

“Would you rather it had been Dust?” Nyx asked.

The other almost choked and turned sharply towards the one in the grey scarf, his face crimson:

“WHAT? 

\- Would you have preferred to spend time with Dust?

\- W-What makes you say that? Stop talking bullshit!”

He turned his back to put the eggs on the plates:

“I don't know what's on your mind, but keep it to yourself! You may have helped the boss to go out with Killer, but we don't want you to be the one who's in the middle of our relationship!”

Nyx did not answer, lingering his gaze on the tempting plates. Horror had no trouble seeing his gaze and sighed, before putting one of the plates under his nose: 

“Tch, come on, eat.”

Nyx blinked, surprised:

“Is that for me?

\- Who else?”

He went back to the stove, without seeing the smile of the black-boned one:

“Thank you...”

* * *

Dust had slumped on the couch as usual, staring dully at the television, which was broadcasting an uninteresting animated series. The skeleton could have changed channels, but beside him was Insomnia. Insomnia was chirping and clapping his hands, all happy in front of this cartoon that seemed to have captured his full attention.

The adult sighed: if he changed, the baby would surely start crying, and Nightmare would make him see all the colors. Annoyed, he abandoned the idea of watching TV and grabbed a magazine from the coffee table, which he began to read without much interest.

Nyx entered the room at that moment. At the sight of him, Insomnia laughed and held out his hands to him. The black skeleton smiled tenderly and approached, only to come and sit down in turn and take the child in his lap. Happy to be with his new friend, the little baby loosened up in his arms and turned his attention back to the television.

Nyx became slightly excited at this sign of attention. Embarrassed, he took care that Insomnia didn't fall and took out his sketchbook, starting to scribble quietly, without seeing Dust, who was discreetly glaring at them.

The baby, hearing the sound of the pencil against the paper, turned his attention to the skeleton in the sling. He remained silent, his curious gaze resting on the notebook where a pretty landscape was gradually appearing.

“Ga-ah?” Insomnia let go, leaning his head to the side.

Nyx giggled:

“Do you like it?”

The baby starts laughing again, as if to give an affirmation, which enlarges the drawer's smile. He continued his work, having fun adding whimsical details, such as candy trees or a shower of shooting stars. Insomnia emitted a squeak of pleasure, clapping his hands again, before tapping his fists on the notebook:

“Gah! Gaaaah!

\- Mm... (Laughs) ? You want to give it a try?

\- Gaaha!”

Dust blinked, thinking he was hallucinating. Was Nyx really able to understand the baby? Apparently so, since he gave Insomnia his pencil, and Insomnia twittered more and more beautifully to come and scribble on another sheet of paper, under the attentive eye of the drawer.

“... You're good with kids,” commented the killer.

Nyx almost jumped, not expecting the other one to speak. He managed to keep his composure and looked at him, still puzzled:

“You think so? I don't do much.

\- Well, it's enough to make him have fun. Have you ever taken care of children?”

The question tensed Nyx for a moment, but he recovered so quickly that Dust thought he had dreamt:

“I must have had some once, but she was older than Insomnia.”

Nyx refocused on the baby who had scribbled all over the page and was fidgeting, visibly unhappy with the result. This made the two adults laugh as Insomnia frowned, looking at Nyx before complaining:

“Gah! Gah gah gaaaah! Gaaha!

\- Isn't that the result you were expecting?

\- GAHOUA!”

The little one puffed up his cheeks and tapped on the landscape that Nyx had made. The cartoonist rubbed his head:

“Don't worry, with a little practice you'll draw much better than me!”

Dust leaned over the notebook to observe the work:

“Yeah... I couldn't believe it. You draw really well. Almost better than Ink!

\- No, really, what I do is nothing compared to him!”

Dust raised an archway, straightening himself up to look at Nyx:

“This is surprising. With your glib attitude, I didn't think you'd be the type to denigrate yourself.”

Nyx almost twitching, his phalanges tensing on his notebook. Insomnia blinked his eyes and put a hand on his cheek, his face suddenly worried:

“Gah...?”

Once again surprised, the one with the black bones quickly regained his tender smile, coming to rub the baby's back:

“Ahah, don't worry Insomnia, I'm fine. I just need to stretch my legs.”

He got up slowly and put the child back on the couch. Dust and the child looked at him confusedly but did not try to hold him back, watching him leave the room with some eagerness. 

Insomnia turned to his babysitter:

“Gaaha?

\- Mm... I don't know what's wrong with him either.”

* * *

Cross made a wide arm movement, destroying the mannequins in front of him without the slightest problem. He teleported himself, appeared in the air above another target and threw his sword in his direction, smashing it violently, before teleporting again behind the last -largest - dummy, which he reduced to dust with a blast.

He teleported one last time to retrieve his sword, then took a breath by running his sleeve over his face, wiping away the beading sweat. 

He wasn't exactly proud of his training. He was bored, these dummies didn't retaliate, didn't dodge, just stood there being disintegrated without moving. It was nothing like his battles with Epic, which he was starting to miss terribly. 

He sighed.

His estrangement from Epic was entirely his fault. He had first started to avoid his friend, before he stopped seeing him completely and giving him more news. But even if it was his fault, he felt offended that Epic didn't try to stop him...

Unless he simply saw through him? At the thought, Cross froze. Was it possible... That his friend knew he had feelings for him?

He shook his head sharply in anguish. No, he must not have been thinking about that. But ... otherwise, why wouldn't Epic try to find out about him? Didn't he care that they stopped seeing each other? 

“Damn it!” Cross exclaimed as he kicked a rock.

Another sigh, before he decided to return to the castle .... So that his gaze suddenly fell on Nyx, he sat a little further down against a tree, scribbling. How long had he been there? 

“Hello, Cross beamed up beside him.

\- Hello Sir ! Nyx replied, looking up to give him a smile.

\- What are you doing here? 

\- I wanted to get some fresh air. And then you were very inspiring.”

Cross raised an astonished eyebrow before looking at the notebook. He saw many sketches of him during his training and was astonished:

“Wow, you drew all this in such a short time? It's crazy!

\- It's not much, you could do the same if you started drawing! 

\- I'm not so sure about that...”

Cross dropped himself next to his comrade, watching him continue his sketches with a skilful and professional gesture. No, really, even with practice he would not be able to reach such a level! Nyx had this quick but delicate pencil stroke, and managed to reproduce the monochrome skeleton with disturbing realism, almost as if he had already tried it several times. But it was impossible: it was the first time Cross had seen him draw it.

Nyx resumed the conversation: 

“How's everything going with Epic?”

Cross almost choked:

“W-w-w-what! What do you mean, "W-what? Yes, very good! W-Well... Why do you ask first?!”

Nyx laughed frankly, as if he expected such a reaction. As he continued his drawing, he quietly replied:

“I'm curious. And then you seemed sad, I assumed it had something to do with your friend.”

Cross grunted as he looked away:

“Nightmare was right, you really do have a knack for sticking your nose in people's problems.

\- I'm a skeleton, I don't have a nose.

\- Oh, you know what I mean!”

Nyx laughed again and Cross glanced at him disillusioned. It was the first time he had seen the other skeleton so smiling and relaxed. Since his arrival at the castle, Nyx was rather the reserved and not very smiling type, despite his kindness and jokes. It seemed as if he was quite comfortable in his presence...?

Cross looked down, embarrassed:

“Mm... Say, if you could help Nightmare and Killer... you think ... well ...

\- I could help you with Epic?”

The swordsman got mad and grumbled:

“Mm... yeah...? Damn, this is so embarrassing. Forget it and don't tell anyone!”

Nyx finally took his drawing out of his eyes and turned towards him, giving him a gentle look and a friendly smile:

“There's nothing embarrassing about being in love. I would be happy to help you, Sir.

\- .... Are you sure? 

\- Of course I'm sure. On one condition.”

Cross gritted his teeth. Shit, yeah, he should have known it wouldn't be for free...!

“I need you to help me with Horror and Dust.”

The monochrome opened its eyes: 

“Whaaaat ? Those two? Are you serious?

\- Ah, unless I get the wrong idea, I have the distinct impression that they're all around each other a lot. 

\- ... So you're the kind of guy who actually likes to matchmaking.

\- I do like playing matchmaker. I do!”

Cross laughed: 

“Damn, you're a freak! No wonder Ink and Nightmare like you.”

Nyx froze sharply, his face suddenly impregnated:

“Do they like me?

\- Uh... yeah? It shows, doesn't it?”

Cross was once again surprised to see a new facet of his comrade. He hastened back to his drawing to hide his embarrassment.

“You are probably right... Well, I'll get back to you when I have a plan for Epic.

\- ...cool.”

Cross got up, ready to return to the castle. However, something else held him back:

“In fact, Nyx...

\- Mm...?

\- Why do you call me ‘Sir’ ? You don't do this with Dust, Horror or Killer.

\- Oh, just out of habit.”

The swordsman frowned:

“Out of habit?”

Nyx stopped drawing, his gaze in the wave, as if he was thinking about something. Then he smiled slightly, with a certain melancholy: 

“I had a teacher who looked like you, and I used to call him sir. So, I did it again with you as a reflex. Do you mind?

\- ... A little, I'm not used to it. On a first-name basis, we're equal here!”

Nyx seemed to hesitate but finally nodded his head. Cross turned away from him and teleported to the castle, thinking the skeleton was strange.


	9. [No passion could be greater than mine]

Lingering in the darkness, not thinking. Not to think about his growing terror, his suffocating spirit. Forget the pain, the long, nagging suffering that gripped his heart. Not to think anymore, to close himself off. To no longer exist. 

To push away his horror.

The nightmare suited him so well though. Wasn't it his symbol, his whole being? That darkness that had consumed him from within for years? The latent darkness of his soul, his emotions he couldn't allow to escape.

For he was made only of darkness. The same darkness that frightened him. And as the death knell of silence struck him, he searched in vain for air, a way out, a way to heal his wounds. A way to heal his distorted mind that screamed at him... screamed... screamed...! 

[ **Screaming at him to wake up.** ]

His eyes widened in fright, bringing him back to reality. The coldness of the room hit him hard, his bones cracking brutally, vibrating with a rage that threatened to explode.

Bile rose up his throat. He became livid, he straightened himself up and threw himself on his sack. Without understanding, without trying to know, without paying attention to what was around him, he could only feel his salty and burning pearls that escaped his gaze, which moistened his face in half-stifled sobs.

His fits were becoming more and more present, too, much too present. And the mere thought that time was running out for him, without knowing exactly how much time he had left, once again failed to make him implode, to destroy the barrier he had erected around his soul.

He chewed the apple with force. The taste never seemed as vile as that day, giving him only one more reason to regurgitate what he had in his stomach.

But he remained of marble, partly in control of his body. His physical suffering didn't matter too much to him at that moment. There was another element that worried him much more than that.

He was asleep. He fell asleep more and more often, for only a few minutes, but ... 

It was still abnormal. 

**[ Nyx wasn't supposed to sleep ]**

* * *

Ink was stamping his feet, mad with joy and impatience, while a huge smile had taken place on his face. Sitting on Nyx's bed, he forced himself to remain calm but his excitement was far too great: the secret club was open again and started again its ultra-secret meetings ! Well ok, he was getting a little bit excited by himself since this 'secret club' only existed in his mind. 

But in any case, being there in the presence of Nyx and Nightmare brought back wonderful memories - well, it was all relative. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” grunted the impatient nightmare master. He'd been pulled from his important files and was hoping to expedite this 'meeting' and get back to work.

Nyx, scribbling at his desk, laughed again:

“Cross must also comes.

\- What? Why? Nightmare wondered.

\- He could be useful to us.”

At the same time, the door opened to reveal the swordsman, who blew with difficulty and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve:

“S... sorry...have to sow... Horror ...”

This time, Nyx allowed himself to puff. It was true that he had asked the monochrome to come here without being seen, but he didn't expect the other one to take such precautions.

“No problem, thank you for being so careful!”

Cross gave him a smile before collapsing on the bed, exhausted, trying to ignore the gaze of his superior. Ink clapped his hands, overexcited:

“So, tell us everything! How are we going to help these new lovebirds?”

Nyx took a new sheet of paper to draw up the plan:

“The first step would be for each of us to admit that we love the other. Horror seems to be in full denial and refuses the idea of loving Dust, while Dust seems unwilling to think about love. 

\- Maybe they don't love each other, Nightmare grunts. Love isn't a necessary part of life, you can be happy without going out with anyone.

\- I don't doubt it and I agree with what you're saying. Maybe deep down, they're just very good friends. But I have to admit that I have doubts when I see them doing their movie night from time to time, or when I see how well they know each other and can guess the state of the other with a simple glance. The other day Horror wasn't on his plate and Dust noticed it immediately, unlike us. Afterwards, as I said, they may only be very good friends.

\- They say that a perfect couple makes two best friends.” commented Cross.

Nyx's smile widens:

“I've heard about it, yes. Look, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, nor do I want to force Dust and Horror to be a couple. Maybe we can just put them in situations that will demonstrate whether or not they love each other? Then we'll see what happens.

\- And what kind of situation?" Nightmare asked, sensing the trick coming.

\- Jealousy!” Ink exclaimed.

The master of the house grunted: 

“Is this a joke?

\- No! Think about it, if they really are best friends, they'll support each other in going out with their loved ones. But if they're in love, they'll be jealous and won't let each other date! 

\- That's stupid. 

\- In what way is it stupid? You'd let Killer go out with someone else, wouldn't you?”

The air suddenly vibrated under the charge of a violent negative aura. The eye of Nightmare began to glow with an icy light as it shot the artist in the eye:

“No way.”

Ink chuckles:

“Ah, you see!

\- Tch, shut up!”

Cross sighed while casting a jaded look at Nyx, looking for some support in the drawer's gaze. But his blasé look turned to surprise when he saw Nyx's face. Nyx was watching Ink and Nightmare with a broad smile, as if their childishness made him crazy with joy.

Cross held back any comment, but it goes without saying that the situation left him forbidden.

It was Ink who ended up bringing back the lack of seriousness of this meeting:

“Well, how can I make them jealous? The two of us should get closer to them, shouldn't we?

\- Indeed," Nyx confirmed by becoming neutral again. One person will have to hang out with Dust, especially when Horror is around. Physical contact is preferable. As for Horror, it will be better to encourage discussion and laughter. Thus, I think the most qualified will be ...

\- ...you.” cut off Nightmare.

Nyx was startled and had great difficulty in regaining his usual neutrality. His gaze struck that of the prince of nightmares as the latter approached with a sly smile: 

“You're always being clever without doing anything direct. It's time for you to participate in your plans. Especially since there's no way I'm going to intervene.

\- But, you know...

\- Killer's going to freak out on me, and I didn't have a hard time proving my feelings to him just to lose him to some bullshit plan. So, you get off your ass and deal with it yourself.”

**[Alone]**

Nyx used violence to keep himself from flinching. 

**[Alone]**

His faint smile returned as he ignored the pressure on his soul:

“All right, I could probably handle Horror.

\- And I Dust.”

Nyx was astonished, as were Ink and Nightmare, who turned their heads to Cross. He had straightened up, massaging his neck with embarrassment:

“Ink is also in a relationship”, he justified himself. “I don't really want Error to come back and blow us up.”

The Creator went into a frenzy of laughter: 

“Ahah, it's true that Ruru is terribly jealous! 

\- Ruru ? relieved Nightmare. What a nickname for...

\- Oh, stop being such a grumpy Nighty!

\- Nighty?!”

And they left in a squabble, under the jaded and amused gaze of the other two. They finally decided to separate, just to go back to their activities so as not to attract attention. 

But when Cross last came out of the room, he was apostrophized by Nyx:

“Thank you”, he said. 

The monochrome tilted his head to the side:

“Why, he said.

\- For devotion to you.

\- Well, you weren't going to handle it by yourself anyway!”

They exchanged smiles, but Cross couldn't help but shudder. Shivering at the strange look in Nyx's eyes, a warm and grateful look. Yet he hadn't done much, had he? He had only offered to help him!

“W-well, I'll go!” the swordsman let go with embarrassment before moving away quickly.

Nyx just nodded his head and watched him turn into another corridor. His smile became painful, he lowered his eyes, clutching his coat where his soul lay:

“... Cross ... why do you always have to protect me ...?”

* * *

_ He collapsed to the ground, his skull smashing against the concrete in a terrible, morbid crack. His soul twisted, twisted so violently that he felt his stomach compress, and before he could realize it, he vomited unidentifiable contents, a black and viscous liquid that came to form a vile pool. His face was undone, marked by tears and wounds, and painfully straightened as he struggled with a coughing fit. _

_ “L-Leave him! I beg of you, let him go!” he sobbed, unable to get up, only being able to observe Ink holding Plum by the collar. _

_ The Creator cast an impenetrable gaze upon him, empty of all life, observing him the same way he always does: as if he were nothing. Nothing but the accumulation of his mistakes. _

_ Nyx leaned on his hands and yelped in pain without turning away his tear-fogged gaze: _

_ “He-He didn't do anything! I forced him! He had nothing to do with it!” _

_ Plum was livid with terror, trembling on all sides without daring to intervene, holding his breath miserably in the face of growing apprehension.  _

_ Ink took a step towards his son while strengthening his grip on Plum: _

_ “You're going to make me believe that you, who is at the mercy of everyone, who is mostly chained up in a cell, who is worthless... You forced Plum, one of Nightmare's subordinates, to have a relationship with you?” _

_ Nyx remained silent, his throat tying itself in front of his father's gaze, his pupils turning slowly red: _

_ “Hilarious... Really, really...” _

_ A grin appeared on Ink's face and he gently sneered: _

_ “So... So hilarious...!” _

_ His laughter grew louder and more terrifying as his pupils began to alternate between red and yellow, more and more rapidly and uncontrollably: _

_ “Do you think I'm a jerk?!” _

_ Plum coughed as he felt more pressure on his throat, while Nyx petrified in horror. And Ink, who laughed like crazy as his pupils turned an icy blue, used his foot to crush his son's skull against the ground. _

_ “YOU ARE STUPID! STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID! YOU STILL DON'T GET IT, DO YOU? THIS RELATIONSHIP IS NOTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EXISTED, YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN BORN!” _

_ Plum widened his eyes, suffocated, searched in vain for air as his body tried to struggle, to free itself from this monstrous hold. Nyx felt a twitch, tried to get up, but his father's foot struck him violently in the skull, holding him down in a state of semi-consciousness. _

_ And Ink, whose pupils had now disappeared, reaped the joy of his son's distress: _

_ “Ah... ahah ... Pathetic and miserable... so that is what you have inherited from me.... ?” _

_ The fracture sounded like a mirage, a distant sound. A distant sound but yet so close, too close, too violent. _

_ Nyx's soul seemed to shatter. For a split second, he saw the neck of his soul mate break. _

_ Then there was nothing but dust. _

Nyx opened his eyes, his mouth open in a scream without the slightest sound escaping him. 

**[Plum was dead]**

It was just a nightmare. 

**[Plum was dead]**

He wasn't supposed to. 

**[Plum was dead]**

He couldn't sleep. 

**[Plum was dead]**

Why... ? 

**[Plum was dead because of him]**

WHY WAS HE SLEEPING AGAIN?!

Nyx stuck his teeth directly into his wrist, ignoring the creak that echoed against the walls, narrowly choking a new scream that escaped him, choking the storm that roared in his lair, choking his rage and sorrow, his anguish and guilt, ignoring his pupils that shot between red and blue, ignoring ... ignoring ... ignoring ... ignorant ...

He sobbed, closed his eyes...

...and cowered a little more in his sheets.

**[He wouldn't sleep.]**

* * *

The noise of the hotplates filled the kitchen like every morning, and like every morning Horror thought he was the first one up and had started breakfast for the whole castle. And like every morning for several weeks now, Nyx came quietly to join him at the table, watching him with attention and curiosity.

Aren't you fed up with it?" Horror growled as he did every time. Seriously, do you find it so hard to sleep in the morning?"

**[If he knew...]**

Nyx smiles: 

“And you? You don't have to get up so early either. 

\- I always go to bed very early, so I wake up early. That makes sense.

\- Yes, it makes sense.”

Horror was uncomfortable. He could feel Nyx's gaze on the back of his neck and it was destabilizing him, as always. He grunted, concentrating on his pancakes:

“Don't you want to doodle instead of looking at me? 

\- My apologies, I just admire your work.”

The cannibal stopped moving, blinking in amazement. His head turned towards Nyx, without him daring to believe what he had just said: 

“...you? Are you in admiration?”

Had he known Nyx a little better, he might have detected the embarrassment that had taken hold of him. 

Holding his gaze with embarrassment, the cartoonist nodded:

“Yes. You're hardworking and talented. 

\- ... Well, I just get up and cook, that's all.

\- You're the only one in the castle to do so. Not to mention your dishes, which are a delight! Really, I never get tired of tasting them!”

Horror raised an archway:

“Yet it's nothing too complicated. The basis of the basis what. Here, make some pancakes yourself, I'm sure no one will see the difference between yours and mine!”

But Nyx's suddenly discombobulated mine silenced him, and even though the black-boned one quickly regained an impenetrable air, it was too late, Horror had understood: 

“Nyx ... Can't you cook?”

The drawer hiccupped, his face suddenly taking on a soft mauve color, a sign of intense embarrassment. He sharply averted his eyes, hiding part of his face in his scarf: 

“Indeed, I've never tried it...”

Which made Horror laugh. A bright and frank laugh that bothered poor Nyx a little more:

“I know it's ridiculous, but please don't laugh ...

\- Ahah, sorry, really! But admit it's funny! You, who spends your time looking perfect and giving advice, now I learn that you don't even know the basics! How were you raised? By overly loving parents who didn't teach you independence?”

**[If only he knew]**

Horror's laughter died at the sight of a tense Nyx, trembling, as if the words spoken had violently shaken him.

Horror suddenly realized that he had probably said something stupid, and anxiety took hold of him. Damn it... When he said that Nyx looked perfect, it wasn't a joke. Nyx really seemed perfect, leaving the impression that he was always in control and that he excelled in everything he did. So why did... why did he suddenly seem on the verge of tears?

“N-Nyx...?”

The cartoonist was startled, as if from his own thoughts. He loosened his scarf and turned back to Horror, returning to his usual expression. An expression that suddenly seemed quite false to the cannibal.

“Excuse me, I was thinking!” Nyx replied with a slight smile.

Horror felt his soul squeeze. How many times had his comrade found himself playing the comedian, to appear so sincere in his lies? 

“... okay. You want me to teach you how to cook this time?”

Nyx tilted his head to the side:

“.... Doesn't that bother you?”

The cook had a smile on his face:

“Of course he didn't.”

The black-boned one hesitated for a long time, then laughed:

“Well, why not? It might be fun!

\- Yeah. Let's do it tonight?

\- Yeah, perfect!”

Yes, the evening was fine. That would give him time to... do what he had to do.

* * *

Maybe he was paranoid. No, not "maybe"... Nyx knew he was paranoid. He was always, every moment, despite his apparent calm. But it was stupid, he didn't have to be anymore. He didn't have to be, did he?

**[There was no longer any danger.]**

Of course you had to be suspicious. But from there to watching everyone at all times?

No, no, that was stupid. He had to stop. The others were right: he paid too much attention to their private lives. He was getting too involved in lives that no longer concerned him.

But, um... (Sighs)

He watched with a keen eye the breach he'd opened up in front of him. A breach that allowed him to see the whole world of UnderLust, especially a familiar skeleton that was walking around the streets looking like nothing, a shopping bag in hand.

Sugar Plum was still as beautiful as ever. No, it wasn't. No, it wasn't. He was even more beautiful than before. Nyx could not help but melt in front of his resplendent smile, his joy of life that emanated from his whole being. Because Plum had now blossomed: freed from his hated work, he had dared to confess his feelings to Grillby only to discover that they were mutual, and so he fell in perfect love with the fireman while finding a quieter job to earn a living without selling his body. 

A sweet victory for Nyx, who enjoyed seeing the other skeleton finally live a life he liked.

**[A life he wasn't a part of]**

His smile cracked as his soul cracked.

Yes... Here, Plum didn't know him. At least he only knew him by sight, if he hadn't already forgotten him. 

“... Ahah... What I expected... ?”

Nyx had a nervous laugh, passed a hand over his undone face. He had prepared himself from the beginning, knowing that he would go from disillusionment to disappointment, but each bad surprise managed to make him feverish, to weaken him a little more. 

It was silly, wasn't it?

He knew the consequences. He had decided on his own to change the course of events, and each of his choices had led him to a painful conclusion. Seeing the way that timeline had unfolded, he realized the sad truth: everyone was much happier... without him.

**[And ironically, thanks to him]**

He's still laughing, a bitter laugh. You'd think his life would never stop being ironic.

His gaze returned to Plum as he entered an alleyway, probably with the intention of going home. Silent, Nyx continued to follow him with his eyes, moved by the vision of the one he had loved so much, and still loved so much ... before he frowned at the sight of three monsters.

Plum seemed to have been ambushed. Oh, it wasn't the first time. Many monsters had a hard time swallowing the fact that 'their' fetish prostitute had run away, but usually they would attack when the skeleton was in the company of his brother or boyfriend, or simply when he was in full control of his magical abilities.

But this time it was different. Plum had spent an exhausting day and found himself alone on his way home, surrounded by monsters greedy for violence and sex, in a dark and deserted alleyway... 

Nyx's blood only made one turn, he didn't ask himself the slightest question: a gate had already opened in front of him and he rushed in without waiting, to land directly on one of the assailants, smashing his face against the asphalt with gentle violence, without killing him. 

Plum widened his eyes, surprised by the sudden appearance of his saviour, while the other two monsters retreated in fright. 

Nyx offered them a mischievous smile:

“Gentlemen, if you'll allow me to attend the party...”

The monsters simultaneously grunted, threw themselves on the black-boned skeleton who quietly dodged them, moving with ease as if dancing, only to end up turning on himself and making a mocking curtsy to his opponents. 

It was not his purpose to kill them. Only to scare them away.

The humanoid dog that he had put down got up grunting, his nose bleeding. He was the quickest to return to the charge, but Nyx only had to step aside for his opponent to explode his fist against the wall, screaming in pain at his visibly broken hand.

It was simple. These opponents were no match for him.

The other two monsters were a giant religious mint with sharp fangs and a humanoid rabbit that came and attacked him with a metal bar. Nyx dodged for the umpteenth time before suddenly disappearing into the shadows of the alley, leaving his enemies panicked and watched around them with apprehension.

Neither thought to look at their feet, and it was only too late that they saw their own shadows move to make Nyx appear to be grabbing their ankles, before firing a sharp blow to knock them to the ground. The skeleton disappeared again, leaving the three oddballs moaning in pain and incomprehension, and crawled out of the shadows near Plum :

“Are you all right?” he hastened to ask, madly worried.

Plum was startled and turned sharply back to him, stunned:

“Y-Yes! But are you all right?”

A lovable question that brought a tender smile to Nyx's face:

“I feel much better when I see you in one piece... Be careful when you go home alone.

\- Yes, I'm sorry...”

Plum sighed before smiling shyly at him:

“Thank you very much. I didn't think ... I didn't think I would ever see you again.”

**[ "Neither do I." ]**

Nyx remembered this answer which reminded him of the horrible night he had spent.

But you can't erase the past. 

“I've come to believe you're a guardian angel!” Plum laughed softly.

*

_ Plum used to visit him in his cell  _

_ “I love you, little angel...” he whispered to him. _

_ * _

Nyx stopped breathing, assaulted his memories once again, frozen, disconnected from time.

A poor mistake.

**[He should have remained suspicious]**

He perceived the attack far too late, had just enough time to push Plum before he suffered a violent pain, shuddering when the religious mint stuck its fangs in his wrist. 

**[The wrist he bit in the night, which he hadn't thought to treat]**

Nyx vrilla. This suffering awakened a deaf terror, an impulse that seemed to break the limit he had set for himself.

His pupils disappeared.

Shadows metamorphosed... ...into black, slimy tentacles. Tentacles that skewered the mint with a sharp blow, making it scream in horror before it fell into a pile of dust.

The other two froze in horror at the sight. Fearing they might be the next targets, they ran away without asking for the rest, horrified.

Nyx returned to him. 

A cold sweat ran down his face.

He turned his head, feverishly, to Plum, who sat on the floor and watched him in amazement and confusion, his face livid:

“N-Nyx... you...”

The black-boned one retreated, terrified of his own reaction, terrified of the dust he had caused, terrified of his pupils, which he knew had turned blue.

He swallowed.

He threw himself into a new portal.

His body fell heavily on the floor of his room. His erratic breathing, unable to control his jolts, he rolled himself into a ball against the wall, could not choke the sob that escaped him. He brought his broken wrist against his chest, trembling all over, the pain making him want to vomit.

**[Pathetic and miserable]**

He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, his soul beating far too hard. 

**[He shouldn't have existed]**

He needed it. He needed it more and more, more and more.

His able-bodied hand grabbed his bag blindly.

**[The touch of the apple seemed to him more painful than ever.]**

He bites into it once. Just once.

The pressure was too much.

**[He burst into tears.]  
**


	10. [ The culmination of your mistakes. The mistake of your life]

The living room was poorly furnished, with only the most important pieces of furniture such as a sofa and a shelf full of books. The rest was empty and dusty, as if the place was not even worth maintaining. This was probably the case. After all, it was only a makeshift shelter, a place they would soon leave and flee to a safer place, before danger caught up with them again and forced them to do the same thing again.

Dream weighed down gently, gazing at the pages of his novel without being able to concentrate. Another night he didn't sleep, another night of biting anxiety, of detestable anguish.

“Worrying won't get you anywhere.” he heard abruptly.

He barely jumped, grumbling with discontent at this unwelcome coming. Though the term was a bit strong... he simply did not wish to see Cross at this moment.

“Go to bed.” the guardian told with exasperation.

But the monochrome ignored him to come and sit beside him, leaning nonchalantly against the backrest while darting his one valid eye on the prince of dreams.

“What's bothering you? he asked, although he already knew the answer.

\- Nyx is long gone, but nothing has changed. How can you expect me not to worry about that?”

The swordsman looked up at the ceiling:

“Who knows?

\- Don't be so phlegmatic! He's still your pupil, and my nephew! Shit, what if something had happened to him? What if the portal had been unstable? What if... What if he was erased from this reality? Oh my God, what if... God...”

He took his head in his hands, and took a sigh from Cross:

“Dream, I was there. I saw what was on the other side of the gate. Don't worry, he got to the other side safely.

\- You can't go safely through the past, damn it Cross!”

And as each time the guard got up sharply, starting to walk a hundred paces, waving his arms excessively, his eyes dark, his teeth clenched: 

“If something happened to him, I won't get over it! I promised myself that I would support him, that I would relieve him of a burden!

\- Maybe he succeeded, but it just created another timeline, without touching ours. 

\- Maybe it did! But how do we know that? Damn it, you should have gone with him! You should have!!”

Cross looked up at the sky:

“Don't scream, you'll wake Lux. And then he...”

He got up, approached the guard gently to make him stop moving:

“...do you really think I could have left you when you were facing Dust and Killer? Dream ... the multiverse is completely corrupted ... ...you and I have lost our families, our friends... I've... I've already lost Epic. It's just you and Lux and Nyx. We're alone, completely alone... and if I hope Nyx is happy in another timeline, I can never bring myself to abandon my husband and daughter.”

He took him in his arms, hugging him gently:

“... Even if it means going down with our multiverse ... I want to be with my family to the end.”

Dream responded feverishly to his embrace, his soul clenched.

If only... If only he could have stopped Nightmare in time... if only he could have prevented all this... there wouldn't have been so much loss, so much suffering, so much regret. The multiverse had already begun its downfall the moment Ink had let himself be corrupted by the black apples, but now that Error was dead in turn...

There was only a storm of miscodes left. Codes that were nibbling away at the last remnants of their world. The question was whether they, or the bad guys, would finish them off first...

* * *

Horror frowned, perplexed, as he let go of the meat that was grilling in the pan. He wanted to believe that Nyx was bad at cooking, but not knowing how to hold a knife ... 

“Nyx, are you all right?”

His doubt was confirmed when he saw his comrade stretching slightly, but as always, he took back his impenetrable mask and that false smile that was beginning to unbear the cannibal:

“Yes, I'm all right! I'm just having a little trouble with the vegetables.

\- If you held your knife differently too...”

Horror approached him and stole the kitchen tool to better position it in his palm:

“You see, it's like this...” 

He paused, perceiving from the corner of his eye the slight grimace of his apprentice. This worried him even more as he began to guess what was going on. Increasingly annoyed, he released the knife and grabbed Nyx's hand frankly, wrenching a cry of surprise and pain from him. Before the drawer could free himself, Horror rolled up his sleeve, revealing a wrist in poor condition, wrapped in a half-untied bandage as if it had been done in haste.

“Wh- I'm dreaming! What the hell happened to you?”

Nyx came out quickly, too abruptly as he grimaced again, aggravating the pain in his wrist. He brought his hand against him and looked away, suddenly feverish. Too feverish.

“N-Nothing...”

His stuttering, weak voice set Horror on fire, and he had to take a deep breath to avoid anger and to stay in control of his actions. He didn't insist, at least not verbally, as he came and grabbed Nyx by the arm - the one that wasn't attached to the broken wrist - and suddenly teleported him to the bathroom.

If Nyx gave him a confused look, Horror didn't explain himself and simply forced him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. Then he turned to the cupboards and searched them thoroughly, only to come out of the bandages a few minutes later. 

“You're out of luck ... the cannibal growled as he walked back to Nyx. You've stumbled upon the only castle where no inhabitant is gifted with healing magic.”

The drawer remained silent, simply watching him take his wrist more delicately to remove the half-open bandage.

“Did you put that bandage on yourself?" asked the cook.

\- ... Yes, I did.

\- ... Damn it. . . You're as bad at cooking as you are at caring. Worse than Killer.”

Nyx laughed, which made Horror smile. Finally, the black-boned skeleton regained some of his good humour, even if it wasn't that yet. 

“What's up? Are you going to tell me how you got hurt?”

The cartoonist massaged the nape of his neck:

“You might laugh...

\- Eh, why? I promise, I'm not laughing!

\- Mm... I was on my bed and I wanted to draw. I leaned over to the bedside table to grab my notebook, but I slipped and smashed on the floor.”

There was a great silence before Horror, looking hallucinated, burst out laughing:

“Oh shit, are you serious? You're even more clumsy than I thought! You'd never think of breaking your wrist like that!”

Nyx had an embarrassed smile. Embarrassment that passed for shame to the cannibal, when in truth the one with the black bones felt guilty for lying like that. But he could never have confessed the truth to anyone...

* * *

Nightmare stayed for a long time watching the files on his desk, but he left them there phlegmatically, realizing that he could not concentrate. How could he? Nyx's case preoccupied him, preoccupied him too much.

It was hard to admit, and to tell the truth he would probably never admit it to anyone, but the master of woes had become gently attached to the damned cartoonist. And yet, the Creator alone knew how much Nyx could bear it! Seriously ... he came out of nowhere, was not known to anyone, but seemed to know everything about everything, as if he had studied every monster on the multiverse! Well, Nightmare was probably exaggerating a bit, but to see that Nyx knew him - a bit too much - well when he knew nothing about himself was ... terribly frustrating.

Not to mention this barrier around Nyx, a kind of mask, a role that the artist was giving himself. As if he was hiding his true thoughts, his true purpose, behind all sorts of tricks, spells ... 

Yes, there was magic. Nightmare wasn't stupid: by noticing that he didn't feel Nyx's emotions, he understood that Nyx was using a spell, a terribly powerful spell that exceeded the power of the nightmare master.

One more mystery about the skeleton with the grey scarf.

And if that's all it was... Nightmare was willing to believe that Nyx was more powerful than he let on. But... from there to blocking his mind?

For no matter how hard Nightmare tried, he had to face the fact that Nyx did not dream. Every living being had a dream bubble at bedtime. A bubble that Nightmare could see and control, a bubble in which a dream, a nightmare, or simply nothing was diffused.

But the Nyx bubble didn't exist. Nightmare searched for it every night, waiting for Nyx to go to sleep, but it was nowhere to be found.

As if Nyx did not sleep.

But it was impossible. Everyone was asleep, skeletons included.

But then... (Sighs) Didn't Nyx look exhausted all the time?

It was true that his black bones perfectly concealed his dark circles.

But ...

Nightmare growled.

He had to get to the bottom of it. 

* * *

**[Looks at me]**

Shut him up... 

**[I love you, my angel]**

Shut him up! 

**[I'll always be here]**

Wha.... 

**[I'll always be there for y...]**

SHUT UP! SHUT HIM UP!

Nyx opened his eyes, too quickly to relate to reality, too quickly for his vision to get used to the darkness.

**[It was dark. All dark]**

Terror made him speechless, he got up hastily, took his legs in the blanket, fell backwards and felt his shoulder crack against the ground. 

**[Black, still black]**

He ignored the pain, ignored the burning, the inferno of his soul, to rise up with uncontrollable trembling, erratic breathing, white dots dancing before his eyes, a sign of his confused spirit being tormented again by darkness.

He threw himself on the bedside table, had great difficulty in lighting the lamp as his hands trembled.

He was suffocating.

**[He needed it]**

The sob escaped him in spite of himself. 

**[WHERE WAS HIS FUCKING BAG?!]**

He turned his head towards the office, beamed there instantly.

Using his magic made him twist, made him even more unstable than he already was.

**[An apple]**

He felt more than he saw the crack on his soul, the crack that spread a little more over his poor inverted heart. 

**[WHERE WERE HIS APPLES?]**

His fingers couldn't find anything. The pain grew stronger, as did the white flashes that kept dazzling him.

He spilled his bag on the ground, in a din that seemed far away, too far away.

Stormy flashes, flashes of memories. ****

**_[His birth, a mistake]_ **

He threw himself to the ground, nervously rummaging among the spilled objects. 

**_[Desperate Ink, to the point of accepting a black apple]_ **

Lack of sleep is fatal to health. The mind starts playing with us, deluding us. What is the dream, what is the reality?

Nyx didn't know. He never knew.

**[The years of torture and rejection]**

**[Fighting Continues]**

**[Plum]**

**[His Plum]**

**[His parents]**

**[ERROR!]**

**New Flash**

_ And Ink, whose wards had now disappeared, reaped the joy of his son's distress: _

_ “Ah... ahah ... Pathetic and miserable... so this is what you have inherited from me... ?” _

_ The fracture sounded like a mirage, a distant sound. A distant sound but yet so close, too close, too violent. _

_ Plum's neck had just been broken. _

_ Then there was nothing but dust, and the frightened look of Nyx. His gaze turned grey, empty of all emotion. _

_ If he had not been born, the conflict between Ink and Error would not have become so serious. Killer would not have left Nightmare for Color. _

_ If he hadn't been born, his parents wouldn't have continued their unhealthy relationship thinking that they only had this left. _

_ If he hadn't been born, Nightmare wouldn't have been desperate, not so desperate as to upset the already fragile balance of the multiverse by corrupting the majority of universes. He wouldn't have taken possession of Underlust, he wouldn't have killed all its inhabitants except Plum. _

_ If he hadn't been born... Plum wouldn't have joined the Badlands by force. He wouldn't have gotten dragged into this, attached himself to it, died. _

_ And the best irony in all this? _

_ Plum didn't even love him. Never had. But then again... Nyx was the only form of tenderness in the castle. So Lust had fallen back on him. _

_ But Nyx had never needed to read his feelings to know how much Plum disliked him. _

_ For ... Nyx was the son of Nightmare, the master of nightmares. As well as Ink's son, the former guardian, the traitor. _

_ Nyx was the mistake of a lifetime. _

_ But if Plum didn't love him... Nyx had sincerely loved him. From the depths of his soul. _

_ “You...” he stammered, still on the ground, watching unbelievingly as Plum's clothes fell to the ground. _

_ Ink looked at him, leaned his foot a little harder against his skull: _

_ “What, are you going to cry now? Do it Nyx, cry! That's all you're good for anyway. You're only good at sobbing on your own s...” _

_ The Creator stepped back sharply, dodging in extremis the tentacle that had just sprung from the ground, which had failed to perforate his body. He shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature, took another step backwards, lowering his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. _

_ The magical concentration around Nyx made him yelp. An unhealthy, feverish, trembling magic that accompanied the bitter tears that rolled down the young skeleton's cheeks, his bitter tears that blurred his vision but did not hide his blinking pupils. _

_ Red, grey, red, blue, red, grey, red, blue, red, red, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED, RED. _

_ BLACK. _

_ Nyx exploded:  _

_ “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” _

_ Ink petrified, his brush exploded against the ground. He screamed as his patella shattered, shattered cleanly by another tentacle. Falling one knee to the ground, the painter was suddenly propelled to the ceiling, spat out a sheaf of blood before being smashed against the floor. _

_ Nyx was no longer in control, cowering over himself as he continued to scream, the negativity escaping him far too quickly to contain it. _

_ His eyes turned red again. He looked at Ink with his red pupils, dangerous, threatening. _

_ Another tentacle sprang up, grabbed the painter by the neck. But this time Ink had the presence of mind to teleport despite his weakness. _

_ Nyx turned sharply, intercepted the punch with his arms. Ink, who thought he had him on his backside, growled loudly before he teleported his brush in his hand, spraying paint on his son. _

_ The younger one hiccupped, suddenly finding his hands bound by chains, before Ink hit him with his handle, sending him crashing into the wall behind. _

_ He was in the castle room, in another timeline, in another TIMELINE! _

_ Nyx knew he was going to die. _

_ He was out of apples, he was out of apples!  _

_ Ink was going to finish him off. _

_ WHERE WERE HIS APPLES?! _

_ But through his blurry vision, Nyx perceived this intrusive blue thread. This wire that he had never seen before, but whose owner he knew. _

_ He found one. An apple. His last apple. _

_ Error immobilized Ink, his livid face, as if he couldn't believe the spectacle he was watching, which he couldn't grasp as his little artist had turned in such a way. _

_ He stuck his fangs in the black pulpit, sweeping away his last glimmers of lucidity, his mind finishing to twist when he felt the oppressive and foul embrace of anger, of resentment, materialize around his soul to tear it apart. _

A cold sweat covered him, gravity grabbed him from all sides.  _ He felt his body fall heavily, his skull hit the ground. _

_ “Who are you, kid?” _

_ Nyx didn't answer. Ink did it for him: _

_ “A HORROR, A  _ **_MISTAKE_ ** _ , THAT'S WHAT HE IS! THIS IS WHAT HE WILL BE FOREVER!” _

_ Nyx groaned piteously, trying to regain his senses, to return to the present moment. But the memories were still playing out, Error's eyes were resting on him. _

_ “I am Error, the Destroyer of UA.” _

_ Nyx looked at him, half-conscious. _

_ “I'm gonna get you out of this hellhole.” _

_ Nyx blinked.  _

_ He looked up at the ceiling. _

_ The silence was soft, terribly soft, after the inner screams of his subconscious. _

_ He blew, clutched his tunic to the place of his soul. _

_ His seizure was over... but for how much longer? _

_ His energy completely drained, he turned his head softly, his pupils lingering on his things strewn about the floor. _

_ Tears came, less painful than the previous ones. A form of fatality, of sinister acceptance. _

**[He ran out of apples.]**

We knocked on his door with strength, drive, will. A noise that sounded like a terrible death knell for Nyx, who got up painfully and eagerly, hiding his objects under his bed with a clever turn of his foot. He dragged himself to the door, dressed in his impenetrable mask, with a smile that he knew to be increasingly false.

"Good evening, Nightmare," he greeted his host with a casual greeting.

The master of the house was not at all reluctant and entered the room without the slightest hesitation, sweeping it with his gaze before returning to Nyx:

“You're not asleep.”

An observation, not a question. The cartoonist laughed:

“That's right. But I was planning to go to bed soon.

\- I'm not talking about now.”

The guest swallowed, didn't have the opportunity to answer that Nightmare's aura was more worrying, intimidating. For Nightmare was like that: he hated not understanding, that one thing escaped him:

“You're not sleeping. You don't sleep. Otherwise I would have seen it.”

Nyx tilted his head to the side, mimicking astonishment, then forced a laugh:

“It's true I don't sleep much, but when l-“

Nightmare's gaze grew harder and colder as he snapped his tongue:

“Don't take me for a stupid Nyx. I'm not able to feel your emotions, but I can still read people's eyes. And you lie like a little cheeky.”

Nyx felt faint. But he was lucky, this young skeleton. As lucky as a kid in a situation could be. Lucky that Nightmare showed up after his seizure. Lucky that he ate a black apple before confronting the master of misfortune. Lucky to be emotionally stable again, enough not to break down, not to reveal his weakness as he did in front of Horror.

His quiet smile of each day returned.

Nyx looked as confident as ever:

“Nightmare, I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you so much. But are you sure you're all right? Wouldn't your power fail when the baby comes?

\- Wha...?

\- Insomnia is adorable... but what energy he has! You and Killer must be exhausted, right? If you need help, I'm here, you know? I love the kid, I'm willing to babysit him for you once in a while!”

Nightmare blinked, not understanding how the discussion could have turned out this way. He was about to go back to the initial subject but Nyx cut him off again, leaving to retrieve his abandoned notebook on the bedside table:

“I could teach him to draw, he has a lot of potential! Look!”

The master of the house was slightly startled, surprised that the paper was put in front of his eyes. In spite of himself, he found himself looking at his son's scribbles. And even though it wasn't high art, he was quickly moved without even realizing it.

Nyx had a sweet laugh:

“Killer was talking about a new restaurant the other day... Why don't you go there tomorrow? I'll keep Insomnia with Dust!

\- ... I'll ... Suppose we could do that, yes.”

Nyx walked him to the door with a smile:

"It'll be great! You're a couple, but you can't let up! Isn't there anything more beautiful than two lovers seducing each other every day? »

Nightmare got a little worse, not even realizing that he had reached the corridor. Nyx waved to him:

“We'll confirm all this tomorrow! Good night!”

He closed the door ... and Nightmare opened his eyes.

Seriously, though... Nyx managed to get him out?

Again?

He grunted, massaging the bridge of his nose, before turning his attention to the drawings he'd kept in his hand. Was Nyx right? Was he simply too exhausted after all? As much by his couple as by his child?

He grumbled. Nyx had turned the tables a little too easily... but it was true that Nightmare needed a break.

He turned around and went to his room, where Killer must have been waiting for him, sleeping soundly.

Yeah, well... tomorrow he was going out with his husband. Then he'd confront Nyx.

Anyway, there was no rush...

_...isn't it? _


	11. My little brother, you deserve to exist]

Insomnia chirped softly, happy to be surrounded by leaves and pencils on the ground. Nyx had of course taken care to arrange the cushions, as Killer did every time he left his son on the floor, and now watched the child with a gentle gaze, attentive to the slightest of his gestures.

The little one continued to laugh and had fun scribbling on the leaves that fell into his hand. It was fun to watch him change pencils, bend his head to the side as if he was looking for an idea, and then stick out his tongue under the weight of intense reflection.

That baby was just so cute.

Nyx laughed, settling more comfortably in the sofa to watch him. Without really realizing it, his own hands had gotten busy and scribbled a sketch of the child. Drawing was instinctive for him. It came naturally to him to make an artwork, without him really needing to think about it. That's why he didn't like receiving compliments such as "You draw well".

For Nyx did not see beauty in talent, but in effort. Someone who made an effort to draw well, to do something beautiful, was someone who drew well. But someone like him, who didn't care about the end result, couldn't draw 'well', because that same person didn't put any passion into it.

That's why Nyx had always admired Ink. He always gave his all, no matter what the situation was, no matter what his condition was. He tried to do his best, and that was most admirable.

Nyx admired Ink. He loved Ink from the depths of his soul. That innocent love a child has for its parent. For Nyx could never bring himself to hate the painter, even the one in his timeline...

“Gahaaaa !”

Nyx blinked his eyes, leaned his head to the side and saw Insomnia waving at him with a sulky pout:

“Gagaa ! Gaaa !”

He then tapped his can, swelling his cheeks and continuing to shake, and Nyx laughed. He got up and came to find the little one, gently taking him in his arms:

“Are you hungry, little guy? I'll see what I can find.”

Horror was absent, just like the rest of the bad sanses. So Nyx was left to his own devices, but that was not a real concern. He had had the opportunity to take care of a child before ... the sweet, adorable little Lux, whose smile had comforted him so many times ...

Did he also cancel her birth?

He froze, a dull pain gripping his soul. He relived the little girl's look, her joy of life, her optimism, her crystalline laughter, her hugs ... 

He closed his eyes, repressing tears. He had promised himself that he would fix everything by coming here... and that included helping Cross go out with Epic, not Dream. Because the swordsman and the guard were like Ink and Nightmare: a couple by compulsion, not by love. Even though Dream and Cross had managed to bond enough to keep from falling into despair... 

“Gah... ?”

Insomnia's squeak brought him back to earth. He looked at the child in astonishment, then his eyes widened as the two little hands came to rest on his face and the baby, on the brink of tears, emitted a sob-like twitter.

Nyx felt its throat to knot:

“Oh, Somnia ... Don't cry, I'm all right...”

He kissed him gently on the forehead, caressing his back to comfort him, then approached with a new smile to prove his point. But the child was not fooled and continued to fidget. How to calm him down? Nyx really didn't want to see him cry, especially not for himself ...

An idea suddenly occurred to him. There was one thing that amused Lux greatly, maybe Insomnia would enjoy it too?

Although it seemed silly to him, he checked around him to make sure there was no one around and concentrated to perceive a magical energy in the castle. But as agreed, he was alone with the baby.

He closed his eyes, blew softly, intriguing the child who tilted his head to the side ... before bursting out laughing when Nyx revealed his star-shaped pupils. 

The black-boned skeleton laughed, blinked to transform his pupils again, changing them into a pink diamond and a blue square, causing the baby to laugh again. Going through all the possible shapes and colors, Nyx decided to stick to the round, starry shapes and colors such as blue, purple or black, having fun adding shades of pink and red, marveling at Insomnia who was chirping again, happily tapping his little palms.

While continuing his little merry-go-round, Nyx came to the kitchen and used shadows to make his tentacles appear. They searched the cupboards and the fridge, preparing with ease a bottle of vanilla milk - as Killer had recommended.

It was an intense relief to be able to be himself, not to have to be suspicious and hide his pupils or appendages, just to be able to act without worrying about betraying himself to others.

He held a sigh, not wishing to spoil Insomnia's joy. The little one had turned away from his eyes to look at his tentacles in astonishment, before twittering again and waving his own little tentacles, making Nyx smile with tenderness.

“You're so adorable, little guy.”

He kissed his cheekbone and retrieved the bottle. Insomnia quickly grabbed it, excited, and shoved the teat into his mouth, relaxing immediately at the first sip. 

Nyx settled him more comfortably in the hollow of his arms and returned to the living room where he sat back on the couch, while his tentacles struggled to put away the coloring and cushions. He thought that maybe he should have invited PaperJam, he hadn't seen him for a while and thought that he and Insomnia could have played together. It would probably be a next time.

If there was a next time... 

He tensed up slightly, barely holding on to his feelings, which were just waiting to break the barrier and burst into the open. He had to think of something else, to keep his mind from wandering.

“... gah ...”

He blinked, looked at Insomnia who had gradually released the bottle, half asleep. 

Nyx softened:

“Tired, eh ...?”

He retrieved the bottle to put it on the table and then went quietly to the little one's room, gently caressing his head:

“... Me too, I'm tired ...”

He reached the room, entered naturally and gently placed the baby in the bed, making sure it was set up correctly, watching that the room was at a suitable temperature for the little one, taking the time to turn down the heating but still covering the little legs with a thin blanket.

“Go Somnia, go to sleep.

\- Gah ....

\- Don't worry, I won't stay away.”

The baby tried to respond, but, too tired, he finally closed his eyes, falling gently into Morpheus' arms.

Nyx contemplated him for a few moments, as if hypnotized, without being aware of his pupils turned blue.

He looked away painfully, he let himself slide to the ground with spite.

How did you... For all his love for Insomnia, for the innocence of this young boy, how...

How could he feel so bad? So envious?

How dare he be jealous of such a little baby?

He closed his eyes, put his head against the bed, controlling his breathing as best he could.

He had to hold on.

He had to hold.

He had to...

**[He petrified]**

He jumped to his feet, his eyes wide open in terror. 

**[Impossible. Impossible impossible impossible]**

There…

There was new magic in the castle.

**[A Overly familiar magic]**

**[Way too terrifying]**

He turned around to face the door, suddenly feeling shaky. Magic was approaching its location. Or should I say... 

**[She approached Insomnia]**

Nyx is swallowing. His own magic was camouflaged, not the child's. It gave him the advantage of surprising the intruder. At least he would have had the advantage if he hadn't been so terrified, literally paralyzed by fear.

But he had to move, if only to put the child in the ab-

Her body vanished into the shadows the instant the door slammed, waking Insomnia who squealed with surprise. 

The baby blinked, confused, not understanding what was going on, or even why Nyx was no longer at his side. But he trembled under the frightening sensation of a torrent of negative emotions.

He hiccupped, painfully straightened himself up, raising his innocent gaze to the new presence, the newcomer.

He was all the more confused. For if he didn't really recognize the magic facing him, the owner was very familiar to him.

“... Gah... ?” he said leaning his head to the side, not understanding what Ink was doing there.

But despite his young age, he easily understood that something was wrong.

Ink had an unpleasant smell.

A smell of blood and dust.

The little one fell back to his bed, suddenly intimidated, but above all ....

**[Completely scared]**

It wasn't Ink. It wasn't the Ink he knew. It wasn't the painter who came from time to time to the castle, who laughed with his parents, who kept him company to draw with Nyx.

And by the way ... where was Nyx?

He trembled at the agreement of a laugh. A cynical, dangerous laugh.

The demented laugh of Ink whose pupils had turned purple.

Insomnia remained frozen.

He was just a baby. Just a tiny little baby. How could he have defended himself? What could he have done in the face of an adult far more powerful than himself? 

He barely had time to see the brush being held up. 

The brush that came crashing down.

Shattering against a sharp tentacle.

“Wha... ?!” Ink let go of Ink in a stupor, before his pupils suddenly disappeared in a dull rage. 

But he didn't have time to react as the shadows fell on Insomnia, drowning him abruptly to make him disappear.

Insomnia coughed, lost, his gaze for a moment veiled by darkness, before he suddenly regained his vision and became more confused: how had he arrived in the corridor? Impossible for him to think about it: Nyx had just appeared and grabbed him in his arms, starting a race through the corridors of the castle, panicked.

“Gah?!” exclaimed the baby as he perceived the older one's bluish pupils.

Nyx did not hear him, turned in a corridor, his mind tortured by his fear and the profusion of insults he was inflicting on himself. What the hell was going on? What was going on? What the fuck was going on?!

**[What was his father doing here?!]**

The pain that twisted his soul made his bile rise. His phalanges tightened on the child. 

**[His timeline still existed?]**

**[How? Why?!]**

**[How did Ink get here?!]**

**[THE PORTAL WAS DESTROYED]**

He came to curse his magical instability, the fucking instability that kept him from teleporting. The slightest use of magic was twisting him around, and he wasn't inclined to have a seizure now. Not when he didn't have an apple in his hand.

Damn .... Fuckin' ...!

Nyx came into the living room, insulted himself again. His things had remained in his room, including his pencil. Pencil which was his only way to get from one AU to another without using his magic!

He would almost have slapped himself if he hadn't been so focused on staying calm. His only escape: finding paint, praying for it to bring Ink in. The good Ink!

But the idea tied his throat. If the two Inks found out, his cover would be blown, his secret would be understood without the slightest harm!

“...gah or...”

He jumped, looked at Insomnia, who hugged him trembling. 

Nyx fainted. The baby was in danger, and he worried that his secret would be discovered? What an idiot! The little one's health was more important than anything else!

He went through the room again in a hurry: he knew there was paint, he had seen Insomnia using it that very morning! So why couldn't he put the hand of...

Nyx threw himself back, narrowly dodged a bone that shattered part of the floor.

The air became much colder than before.

“Alive and well...” Ink's voice growled, cold and angry, as the painter took his time entering the room, his white pupils landing on Nyx in violent disgust.

The skeleton retreated again, the face turned pale. There was no possibility of escape now.

Ink glanced at him scornfully before turning his attention to Insomnia:

“Temporal rewriting... Error and Dream did a good job. It almost could have been a good plan... if they hadn't sent you.”

Nyx tensed up, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker when he came across that hateful look again. And Ink, who fully knew the effect he was having on his son, sneered maliciously:

“What a joke... I guess they should have been the ones to go. But Ruru really didn't measure up to me!”

Nyx's back hit the wall, giving him the painful reality of being completely trapped, while his mind came to torture him again, that a memory made him want to burst into tears. The memory of Ink finishing Error without the slightest remorse.

“... H- He loved you...” Nyx stuttered, squeezing Insomnia a little tighter.

The painter's pupils turned purple before he struck violently at the table, destroying it abruptly, shaking the rest of the room.

“He loved me...? he repeated. He  **loved me** ?”

Nyx had no time to react, too destabilized by the situation, and it was in a scream that he felt a bone come out of the wall behind him, a bone that shattered a rib and paralyzed him with pain.

Insomnia made a whimper, squirming in his arms as if to observe the wound, but Nyx held him tightly against it, protecting him with his arms, grimacing as he glanced feverishly at his father.

Ink trembled with rage, as if consumed by an inferno:

“He NEVER loved me!

\- That's not true! All you had to do was open his eyes, give him time, not rush him like you did! 

**\- WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT IT?!”**

Nyx's soul turned blue and he was tackled against the wall much more violently. Ink approached dangerously, close to insanity, ready to implode, to destroy everything:

“ **Did you have fun changing the story? Getting involved in lives that don't concern you?** ”

Nyx felt the tears burning his eyes: 

“... I-it concerns me ...”

His voice broke:

“You are my parents...”

Ink petrified a few centimeters away from him, his eyes devoid of pupils, hit hard by his words ... before suddenly clenching his teeth and materializing a new bone at the sharp end, to plant it sharply in his son's shoulder, in a sinister creak that accompanied Nyx's scream.

“YOU...”

He pressed harder, digging deeper and deeper into the cracked bone, not caring about his son's cry.

**“Don't you ever dare to think of me as your father again.”**

The black-boned one yelps, terrified, unable to defend himself.

Ink growled again, raised his hand to Insomnia: 

**“Get off that kid. He doesn't belong here. He's not supposed to exist.”**

Nyx hiccuped. It wasn't supposed to exist...? ... Quite the contrary. Insomnia had every reason to exist. It was born of a loving union, it was born because it was wanted. It was born because its presence was desired, because it was proof of a powerful love between two beings. 

Insomnia had to exist. Insomnia deserved to exist.

And the fury that seized Nyx finally broke the barrier around his soul. His left pupil glowed bright red. 

**[His magic exploded]**

The surge of energy propelled Ink backwards, although he barely managed to catch up. Seeing Nyx break the bone that held him against the wall, the Creator made his brush appear a second time and threw himself at his son, but the son teleported behind him.

Ink was horrified at being dodged, and had great difficulty deflecting the tentacles that pounced on him. It was only the second time Nyx dared to stand up to him, but the painter had a bitter memory of their last confrontation.

Yet the situation made him smile softly:

“I wonder if you'll dare to confront Nightmare in such a way!”

Nyx turns pale:

“Wha... He's here too?!”

Ink sneered, projected a wave of paint towards his opponent. Nyx missed being touched but melted into the shadows in time to reappear a little further away before once again using his tentacles on the painter. Painter whose smile grew larger:

“Of course he's here! Did you really think you could hide the portal from us? Ahahah, a nice way out, isn't it? Away from our world, which will soon disappear!”

Ink knocked his brush down on Nyx. This one protected himself with an arm, his arm whose wrist was wounded, his wrist whose pain until then attenuated returned more strongly, more destructive than before.

The cry of Nyx got stuck in his throat. He struggled to take support on his legs, trying as best he could to push the weapon away without letting go of Insomnia. And Ink's unhealthy laughter continued, twisting his already battered mind:

“Oh Nyx, your eyes are so evocative! Why is the gate still open, you ask? It had closed behind me, you think!”

Nyx swallowed, feeling lost, unable to ignore his father's words.

“But Nyx, for a gate to close, someone has to close it! But you must not have thought about taking care of it, did you? You thought it would do itself! But just like Cross, that stupid Cross, way too busy saving Dream's ass!”

No ... no no no no! No!

**[Nyx had seen the gate disappear]**

**[He... He had concluded that it had closed. It was obvious!]**

“You guys are idiots... So that's why they didn't go through the portal with you? They thought they'd closed up!”

Cross, Dream and Lux... had time to join him after all? Nyx couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it. 

No no no no no no no !

* * *

_ “Master Cross, it's closing!” Nyx exclaimed in panic as he watched the gate slowly disappear. _

_ Cross had taken a brief glance at him before turning his attention back behind them. In the distance he could see Lux, his dear little Lux, trying to defend herself against Horror and Dust, losing ground and being wounded in the arm, without deigning to give up the battle. And not far from him was Dream. Dream, who tried to join her, to rescue her, but was confronted by Nightmare, against whom he no longer had any advantage. _

_ And of course, Ink was surely around, spying on them with his sadistic air, waiting for the slightest breach to strike a fatal blow. _

_ Cross had clenched his fists: _

_ “Dream and Lux will never be able to join us...” _

_ Nyx had flinched before frowning, staring a feverish look at their enemies, ready to draw out his tentacles:  _

_ “Yea... Let's go and help them! _

_ \- No.” _

_ Nyx had jumped up, looked at his teacher with a confused look on his face: _

_ “No... ?” _

_ Cross had smiled at him: _

_ “I trust you, kid.” _

_ By the time Nyx grasped the tenor of his words, the monochrome had already pushed him into the portal. _

_ Flash, terror, pain. _

_ Nyx's scream. _

_ “CROSS!!!” _

_ Then nothing. Nothing at all. Silence. _

_ And the sky.  _

_ A shining sky. _

_ The sky of OuterTale. _

* * *

Nyx was violently brought back to reality, suffering a sharp blow that threw him to the ground, his skull twitching when he hit the ground. For a moment his sight was black and white, while a coughing fit took him, bringing the metallic taste of the blood to his puck.

He barely had the presence of mind to turn over on his stomach, to protect with his body the little Insomnia whose cries had begun to fill the room. ****

**_[Help!]_ **

His body no longer responded, as did his mind. 

**_[Someone, anyone]_ **

His magic crackled, screamed, begged. 

**_[Somebody protects Insomnia, please]_ **

His sight was troubled by his tears, tears that slid down his face, accompanying the sobs that escaped him. 

**_[Please, Somebody… protects my little brother]_ **

He cowered further over the little baby, closing his eyes, apprehensive, fearing the fatal blow, the one who turned him to dust to leave only a child completely helpless.

But the only thing that reached him was Ink's scream. 

A bug sounds.

The sound of footsteps.

“What the hell is this?” grew a glitchy voice, both puzzled and annoyed.

Shaken with jolts, Nyx widened his eyes, raised his head.

It was the second time ...

The second time Error saved him from Ink's hands.


	12. [ Shock of realities]

Error didn't understand and didn't try to understand, he didn't need to. He knew the principle of UA and timeline, and although seeing another Ink in his world was strange, it didn't destabilize him any more than that. For it was definitely not his painter who was facing him, his eyes veiled by hatred and rage, with a pungent smell of metal and dust. 

"What the hell is this delirium? "he ventured, letting his gaze run over the devastated living room, the overturned table, the disemboweled sofa, the cracked floor and walls.

He had no trouble seeing Nyx on the floor. Nyx slowly raised his head to look up, to observe him with a relief that Error never thought he'd see in anyone. At least not in himself. 

The cartoonist was most banged up, not to mention Insomnia sobbing in his arms. Insomnia that he had probably tried to protect at the risk of his life, which explained his state of great weakness.

Error sigh, looked back at the falsified Ink:

“Well, one more to erase.”

But his opponent, whom he had imprisoned in his sons, did not seem afraid. Rather... stunned. Shocked. Devastated.

“Ruru... ?” Squealed softly at the Ink.

And Error flinched, suddenly in doubt. His opponent was clearly not HIS Ink, he knew that by his failing magic, as if corrupted. But ... the way he looked at him, the way he spoke to him ... it looked very much like ... his Ink. His soulmate.

A bone flew in his direction and he dodged it only with his wily reflexes. Forbidden, the Destroyer retreated when he saw his sons shattered before his opponent threw himself on him to punch him in the face.

Error dodged even harder, caught short by the speed of the other skeleton. Fuck, was it like a mess? Who the hell was that guy? I can't believe he told his own Ink "There's a strange magic in DreamTale. Look after PaperJam, I'll take care of it", when his lover would have been very useful right now!

He scolded, teleported himself behind his adversary and tried a new capture, but this Ink seemed to know him by heart since he dodged all his attempts before suddenly finding himself against him, forehead against forehead, pupils in pupils ...

The voice of the painter resounded soberly, in a laugh of madness:

“I killed you once ... I can do it again!”

Error grimaced, hardly wiping a blow to his legs. He did manage to move back, but his cheek was grazed, which almost made him glitch. This Ink was much more mischievous than his, but more importantly ... no, not powerful. It was something else. 

He petrified on contact with a viscous liquid. A familiar but terrifying liquid, which had grabbed his arms from behind. Confused, he glanced behind him to see an ink puddle on the ground from which ...

“Wh-... tentacles?” he hiccupped without believing it.

Ink took the opportunity to hit him again, making him hiccup again, while a sinister crack from his arms made him bend suddenly, tearing a cry of pain from under his slowly breaking bones. 

Panting, he tried to free himself ... but petrified. Petrified when the mouth of his opponent came to take possession of his own, to devour him, dominate him, subject him to his will. He became livid, his body frozen with terror, while he felt a tongue get between his teeth and come to play sneeringly with his own.

This unknown Ink didn't care about him, only wanted to humiliate him.

And a few meters away from them, with a pale face, Nyx was watching them. He observed them with a shock too great. Shock to see his father kissing Error. To force Error to kiss him, to subdue him in such a way. 

Error, who, in this timeline, hated Nyx. But the cartoonist only remembered the Error in HIS timeline. The Error who had saved him from the clutches of his parents, the Error who had taken him in, the Error who had raised him and whom he had come to see as an adoptive father.

**[Nyx lost control]**

**[The rage overwhelmed him]**

Error opened his eyes to the sudden wave of negativity, certainly much weaker than Nightmare's, but still surprising. And his surprise was even greater when he perceived, from the corner of his eye, Nyx's pupils that had turned deep red, while tentacles suddenly materialized from shadows to whip the air furiously.

Ink released Error sharply to cast a hesitant glance at Nyx, visibly feverish to face the rage of the youngest.

But the cartoonist didn't have to intervene... Because the Ink of this timeline did it perfectly well.

A bluish paint sprinkled on the 'bad' Ink, who opened his eyes and moved backwards before shouting in rage when the paint changed into a chain, a chain that immobilized him at once. Mad with anger he looked up at the 'good' Ink. The 'good' Ink who had just come out of a portal and who, with a powerful brushstroke, freed Error from the claws of the tentacles.

The confusion was only greater when the two Ink looked into each other's eyes.

“Another me?” wondered the past Ink while holding the Destroyer against him in a protective gesture. 

Faced with the proximity of the two skeletons, Nyx's father yelped, foaming with rage, and felt trembling on all sides. How was it that his past self was so close to ...

He petrified.... To turn a murderous glance at Nyx:

“That's what I thought... Y.o.u. h.a.v.e c.h.a.n.g.e.d. t.h.e. s.t.o.r.y.”

Nyx lost his tentacles as his pupils turned blue, he backed away abruptly, intimidated and frightened in front of his progenitor, while pressing Insomnia against him again.

“I-it was the right thing to do, he replied.

\- The best thing...? Ugh, Dream and Error have really messed with your head! The best thing you say? No, no no ! Nyx, haven't we taught you nothing? Didn't Nightmare mean to make you his worthy successor?”

Nyx felt the tension pressing down on his body, his legs trembling and failing to pull away, while his father was gradually displaying a crazy grin:

**“You should have killed us.”**

The cartoonist lost his pupils, his hands clasped on the baby, while the skeletons of the past listened to the conversation without understanding the meaning.

Nyx's father sneered suddenly:

**“You were born to kill.”**

A tentacle of ink broke his chains, and the Ink of the future disappeared in a sudden teleportation, abandoning his opponents in total confusion.

Nyx's heart was heavy. His body finally let go and he fell to his knees on the ground. To tell the truth, it was even a miracle that he didn't burst into tears in the moment. Probably he was too shaken to know exactly how to react. 

But the words of his father assaulted him, bit him, scratched him, dragged him into a trance, a second state that disconnected him from reality without him being able to do anything about it, as if his spirit was sliding furiously down a slope too steep to make him sink to the bottom, drowning him in a flood of memories, remorse, regret.

**[You were born to kill.]**

Killing physically and mentally. It was by design. He had killed the happiness, the hope of his parents. He had caused Plum's death. He had also caused the death of Error. He had caused the deaths of so many people, willingly or unwillingly. You'd think he was only good for that...

No, that's exactly what it was.

He was only good at killing everything he came near. Killing... often without mercy.

“Nyx!”

He was startled, brought back to reality by Ink who had grabbed him by the shoulders and was shaking him gently with great concern.

“Nyx, can you hear me?”

For a brief moment, the cartoonist thought it was his father. But this thought was soon swept away: his progenitor had never called him so kindly, so anxiously. 

However, if Nyx wanted to answer, he interrupted himself, sensing that his arms contained nothing more, closing in on a void. He became pale, his pupils taking the form of two exclamation marks in spite of himself as panic gripped his being:

“Insomnia?! Where is he now?”

The Creator was startled, not expecting such a strong reaction. Not to mention his astonishment at seeing his pupils change shape. But he tried to keep a cool head and respond appropriately to Nyx:

“He, uh... He's with Killer.”

Nyx blinked: with ... Killer?

Ink turned his head and pointed to another part of the living room. The Draftsman looked around and ran out of bugs, lost. Killer was indeed there, holding Insomnia against him and watching him from every angle, checking that he had nothing. At his side stood Nightmare, who was also examining his son, before turning to Nyx.

"Are you finally coming to your senses? "he grunted as he approached.

The black-boned one didn't understand. He just... He'd been gone that long? A moment of absence that had prevented him from perceiving the return of the couple? Sometimes his mind was somewhere else, yes, but that long?

**[Was it... because of the lack of apples?]**

He shook his head, chasing away the thought as he stood trembling, helped by Ink who gently supported him.

“... I...I have to go.” he blew.

He had to go back to the gate. He had to find out if his father had told him the truth. He was... He had to close the fucking portal once and for all, before things got any worse! 

But as he dodged a move to get away, a tentacle grabbed his arm, petrified him.

Nightmare's voice growled, dangerous:

“You're not going anywhere. Not without an explanation.”

Nyx swallowed, tensed up a little more when Error also intervened, arms folded, leaning against the back of the sofa:

"Yeah. You owe us an explanation. How come you know another Ink? That he talked about 'making a difference'? And more importantly... How come your pupils change like that, and you have tentacles? »

Pushed from all sides, Nyx feverishly sought help from others. But both Ink and Killer were waiting for answers. It was at this moment that the cartoonist also noticed the return of the bad Sans, except that they were standing much further back. But Horror, Dust and Cross hadn't planned to help him either, looking at him from the frowned arches, even though the cannibal seemed the most worried of all.

Nyx blew, realizing that he wouldn't get anyone's support. Not until he revealed nothing.

He gave up the idea of running away, to face Nightmare and Error:

“I guess it doesn't take a genius to figure out I'm from another timeline, right?”

No need to be a genius, certainly ... yet this information caused a sudden surprise to others, especially Nightmare and Ink. 

But especially Nightmare, who imperceptibly clenched his fists:

“... What do you mean by that?” he grunted.

Nyx gently disengaged from the grip of the appendix, then took a breath and resumed his impenetrable face, before making a slight curtsy to the assembly:

“Let's take it from the top. My name is Nyx, I am a traveler. A time traveler.”

He looked at Ink:

"That's why you couldn't find any trace of me in the AUs. Simply because I'm not even from that multiverse. I come from an apocalyptic future where the multiverse has fallen into ruin, and I've been given a mission to go back to the past to change history, to prevent the fall of this world. »

He raised his hand to stop all questions:

“I'd rather not reveal more, for fear the timeline will be too shaky.”

Nightmare laughed:

“If you've made a difference, the timeline must already be a monster mess. So instead of making stupid excuses, tell me .... Is Ink the problem?”

Ink tensed up as he remembered his double, which had seemed quite terrifying to him with his aura and intimidating gaze. 

Nyx hesitated:

“.... Not ... not only.”

Error growled bitterly:

“This Ink had tentacles.”

The Nightmare Keeper froze himself by understanding:

“So I'm the problem in the future? I'm the one who was made to sink Ink, and the multiverse?”

Nyx had a slight, very slight recoil. But that's enough for the master of bad emotions to understand. 

**[Understand that Nyx was playing him for a fool]**

For the past few months, Nightmare had been plunged into doubt, hoping to be wrong, thinking that his powers had only weakened in the face of his softening and his family life. But the time had come when he had to face reality, when doubt was no longer allowed.

“You hide your feelings of your own free will.” he said to Nyx, who trembled.

He thought he'd found a friend, someone who understood him, trusted him...

“You're afraid of me.” he said, feverishly, receiving like a stab in the soul. __

_ [No !] _

Nyx would have liked to disapprove. 

_ [No, it's not that, you don't understand!] _

He remained mute, unable to defend himself. Because deep down, even if he had explained the real reason, would Nightmare have believed him? He wasn't sure. And deep down... Deep down... ...Nightmare was probably right. In Nyx still resided the fear, the terror of being locked up, tortured, confronted with his worst nightmares.

He simply looked down, confirming what Nightmare was already thinking. Confirming that Nyx had always feared him as much as anyone else.

“...I see.” he pessimised, turning away from the cartoonist.

Being unable to smile, the body relaxed, an immense emptiness in the chest while a flood of insults crosses our minds. So that was the disappointment? That bitter feeling of being betrayed? To see our expectations, our ideals flouted? To feel like a fool from the start? Offended, humiliated, what else should he have felt? Anger? 

Oh, the anger was there, deep inside him, striking a slight spike in his Being while the guilt did the same. Guilt for being angry at others when others had done nothing, at least not with the wrong kind of care. But that it was painful to feel such a thing... to feel as if you had been manipulated, deceived, by someone you valued.

Nyx, seeing the nightmare master turn away from him, knew he had screwed up again. His gaze slipped on the rest of the ruined living room, on Insomnia who seemed quite feverish in Killer's arms, on the bad guys without whom were exchanging worried murmurs .... Then on Error, wounded, who was not completely recovered from his previous fight, while Ink was standing next to him without knowing how he should act.

Nyx knew he was responsible for all this. From the beginning, the very beginning, he was the problem. He, the mistake, the one who should never have existed. His life had been a continual series of problems caused by his birth, and now another timeline was threatened by his fault, another complete multiverse.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't allow this world to be destroyed.

“I'm going to fix everything.”

He left no time for others to hold him back, disappearing in a gust of wind through a portal as Ink tried to catch up with him. But too late, the portal had closed without leaving a shred of magic behind, as if Nyx had made sure no one followed him.

A leaden silence fell, terrible and oppressive, letting a peculiar bitterness take hold of the assembly ....

Until Nightmare froze. Let him look at Error, his eyes wide open, finally becoming aware of the words the Destroyer had spoken earlier:

“Nyx had tentacles?!”

A much more powerful apprehension had just caught him by the throat.


	13. [ Nyx ]

**_[He was born to kill.]_ **

_ It wasn't a lie, or a depression, or just a quick remark made in haste. It was simply a statement of fact. A statement about what his life had been like, both before and after he was born. _

_ He was born to kill. He had been raised to kill. And Nyx often retained a bitter laugh when he saw the people around him looking at him with pity, looking at him as a poor little thing who had been given no choice. _

_ Plum had also looked at him for a long time like that. Plum was like all those unconscious people who looked at him and said, "The poor child, tortured by his parents, locked up in the dungeons, forced to do things he doesn't want to do!" _

_ That was a lot of misunderstanding about Nyx. _

_ Because Nyx wasn't an idiot. Nyx knew he had a choice. _

_ And his choice naturally went in favor of his parents. His parents, whom he wanted to make proud and protect, no matter what. _

_ “Nyx, are you listening?” _

_ Nightmare's voice was deep, intimidating. Enough for his son to fold before him, lower his eyes to the ground: _

_ “Yes, father. I'm all ears.” _

_ The master of misfortune left his throne, his tentacles waving nervously, contrasting with the inexpressive face of their host:  _

_ “I don't care what happens to the other colored bastard. But he'd better not be in my way when I'm facing Killer. _

_ \- I understand, father. I'll take care of it.” _

_ Nyx squealed, however, when an appendage grabbed it by the throat, to better press it against the wall on its back. Nightmare came closer, almost sticking his face close to him, the pupil crackling with a dangerous, devastating glow: _

_ “Don't disappoint me.” _

_ He released his son and left the room. The young skeleton fell to the ground, grimacing slightly, and massaged his throat. _

_ He could have run away. His magic was unimpeded, he could teleport himself safely out of the castle, see his pencil retrieved and open a portal to another AU. He could do it easily, just as he knew he could hide from everyone, even his parents. _

_ A spell to camouflage his magic. A spell to camouflage his emotions. A spell to teleport him. _

_ He had everything he needed to escape, to get away from here. _

_ But he chose to stay. _

**_[He'd always had a choice.]_ **

* * *

  
_ Color threw himself into a frantic race, too exhausted to use his magic. He succumbed to despair, despite all his fervor and courage... He succumbed, exhausted and terrified, as he watched in the distance as his beloved Killer tried to defend himself against Nightmare. _

_ “Killer!” _

_ He tried to call, to show his soul mate that he was there for him, but his voice was too weak, much too weak. _

_ And tentacles pinned him to the ground. _

_ He hiccupped, a grimace of pain escaping him as he felt his bones cracking all over the place. _

_ “You're the one who caused Father so much trouble...?” Nyx questioned him as he quietly joined him, looking intrigued. _

_ Color coughed, felt the pungent taste of blood fill his puck without being able to retain a reply: _

_ “Haven't you had enough brats?! I have to save Killer! Let go of me!  _

_ \- I can't grant your request, father is counting on me. _

_ \- He's using you! He doesn't see you as a son, but as a tool! Open your eyes!” _

_ The appendages tightened him a little more, aggravating the already large cracks, while Nyx's pupils took on a slight golden glow, as if he had been amused by Color's words. Color, trembling with rage, tried to struggle: _

_ “You don't have to follow Nightmare! You have a choice! You don't have to stoop to this guy's whims just because he's your father! _

_ \- ... whim?” _

_ Nyx's tone had changed, as had his pupils, which were slowly turning red: _

_ “I think you're a hypocrite, you who begged Killer to come with you, pretending to love you tenderly. _

_ \- Because I love him ! I take care of him! _

_ \- But you knew the consequences. You knew it would destroy Nightmare. You knew he'd want revenge. But I guess hurting him was a fabulous bonus. Everybody wants to hurt the nightmare master. _

_ \- Because he's a vile being!” _

_ The grip tightened more violently, wrenching a terrible howl from Color who was pushing back his tears as hard as he could. _

_ Nyx's voice was darker: _

_ “It's because everyone else does what you do that my father became like you. It's because of you that he sank. It is because of you that he is unhappy.” _

_ A stream of magic concentrated over Nyx, finally materializing a deep black Gaster Blaster. _

_ Color's soul missed a beat.  _

_ Nyx rumbled coldly: _

_ “I have made my choice.” _

_ The blaster charged into a morbid crackle: _

_ “I'm going to make him happy. I'll make both my parents happy.” _

_ Color petrified and broke out in a cold sweat. His wide-eyed eyes moved sharply towards Killer out of instinct, as if to call for help or simply to capture one last time the image of his lover. And frightened, he saw Killer on the ground, about to be finished off by Nightmare. _

_ He hadn't been able to save his lover. This realization finally broke him, tearing bitter tears from his cheeks, which rolled down on his cheeks, before blending into the cloud of dust that became his body when the energy beam pulverized him. _

_ The explosion was harsh, the earth trembled. And Nyx, imperturbable, put his scarf back on properly.  _

_ He had made up his mind. _

_ His parents came first. Before everything else. _

* * *

The portal was similar to the last time: a worrying, bluish vortex that hinted at another world, a dark and dangerous future.

Nyx hated this vision.

He had fought to change the course of things, and now he learned that his timeline still existed?

But he should have known better. If his timeline had been erased, he himself would have disappeared, wouldn't he? To tell the truth, he didn't know anything about it, he didn't have enough knowledge to prove anything.

All he knew was that the two timelines shouldn't mix any more. Otherwise his parents would destroy everything he had forced himself to do for them.

...even though... did it still make sense? Making a difference had to help his family. But he'd changed things for another timeline, not his own.

He hadn't fixed anything.

“Damn... (sighs)”

He gritted his teeth, feeling his fences crack again as he approached the gate. If his efforts were useless, what was he to do? How was he supposed to act?

Dream, Error, Cross... they had counted on him. They trusted him.

But they were wrong from the beginning. They were the ones who misled him.

“SHIT!”

A magical flow escaped him, twisted the space around him, made his already feverish body tremble as he did not perceive the slightest change from the portal. The portal that seemed to taunt him with malice, as if to tell him "if you had closed me earlier, you could have lived a sweet life of lies, unaware that your timeline still existed.

He gnashed his teeth, ignoring his soul that had become painful, and made a Gaster Blaster to shoot at the portal. But the ray of magic did nothing, not even a little bit of damage to the wormhole. And if Nyx was tempted to do it again, he was stopped by the sensation of a very familiar magic, an aura that stood behind him and that he would have recognized among a thousand.

He turned pale, his throat dry, and shivered when a hoarse voice rose behind his back: 

“Do you really think the gate will close like this?”

A weary, sarcastic voice, broken by the cries, tears, the tumults of life.

Febrile, Nyx turned around gently, his pupils reflecting all his anxiety. As he thought, Nightmare stood there. The Nightmare of his timeline.

“... Hello, Father...”

He watched his progenitor in silence. The emotions were multiple and contradictory: apprehension, fear, joy, relief, shame... So many things the young skeleton would have preferred not to feel.

Sometimes, he would have liked to be devoid of emotion, to tear out his soul like Ink, to become just a vulgar doll unable to feel, and therefore to suffer.

But he was too afraid to do so. Another of his faults: talking a lot, but not acting.

“So you betray me to the end... ?” Nightmare grumbled.

A weary reproach. This Nightmare had gotten used to people turning their backs on him. Nyx knew it, and it gripped his soul with an acidic guilt:

“Father, I ...

\- Ink has already told me everything. So you have fun changing a timeline for your own pleasure?

\- I-I just wanted to ...”

But a laugh interrupted him, and he shivered at the sight of Nightmare's broad smile. How long had it been since he had smiled?

Nyx swallowed as he approached:

“You are my son! As selfish and manipulative as I am! No matter what your reasons are, laudable or not, you're still a great speaker!”

The drawer did not dare to move, held his breath when his father was a few inches away from him:

“What now, Nyx? Now that you know you've created another timeline without influencing ours? Now that I'm here, now that I've found you? Now that you panic, assailed by doubt? What are you going to do?”

And while he was talking, his tentacles were slipping, wrapping themselves around Nyx's legs, reaching his waist and then his arms.

“Past or future? You want to change things, you're gonna have to erase your past. So take advantage of having me on hand to kill me, closed the portal. Do the job to the end!”

Nyx felt pressure on his body, felt the appendages squeeze harder, hard enough to hurt him without breaking his bones.

“Father, I...”

The physical pain was nothing compared to his mental suffering. He imagined listening to his father, killing him in cold blood, doing the same with Ink. He imagined getting rid of the dust, closing the portal forever, and starting his life over in that timeline.

He imagined doing all this, and a deep headache took him, accompanying the terror that gripped his soul.

His pupils turned blue and he couldn't control it: 

“I can't...” he blew, a sob caught in his throat.

Nightmare lost his smile, frowned as he examined his son, trying to read him:

“.... Why? You're happy with our versions of the past, though. Much happier than with us anyway.”

Nyx looked down, on the verge of tears:

“For the same reason I have sacrificed so much so far... because I love you...”

The tentacles suddenly dropped as Nightmare widened his eyes. How can you not be surprised when the son you have tortured for years tells you that he loves you? Especially when, through your fault, said son is filled with negative emotions, addicted to poisoned apples? 

Nightmare burst out laughing so much it seemed laughable to him :

“Do you love us? I don't know if that still makes you a worthy heir, but if it allows me to make you obey ...”

He sneered and came and patted Nyx's cheek, just like one would do to a dog:

“So listen to me. You've done a good job on this timeline, it's time to make it all pay off.”

Nyx gave him a confused look, to which Nightmare hastened to reply:

“We're going to get rid of our alters.”

Nyx froze with fright, understanding without difficulty the purpose of this manoeuvre: to eliminate the past versions in order to take their place ... To eliminate the versions with which he had befriended ...

The Ink and the Nightmare of the past. Those who had made the effort to change, to improve themselves, who had built a family life, with whom he had created this 'secret club', those with whom he had drawn or shared meals, those who had given him real attention, who had worried about him, who had housed him, supported him...

Nyx's pupils turned grey.

He nodded slowly.

“I'll do anything for you, Father.”

* * *

PaperJam nervously triturated the bottom of his shirt, anxious as he watched his parents whisper with concern. The young skeleton, as soon as he had seen his progenitors returned, had understood that something terrible was happening, and he could only apprehend the continuation by seeing Ink close to a nervous breakdown.

Walking away from the kitchen to get out of the house, Jammy took a breath. He had been able to discern Nyx's name in the conversation. It wasn't hard to understand that something had happened to his friend, and the child couldn't accept it. 

He loved Nyx very much. The cartoonist was kind and gentle, paid him a lot of attention, but always seemed so sad ... not to mention that crisis he had had the other night, and the way he had thrown himself on the black apple.

And then... he had called Ink "dad".

Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle were coming together in PaperJam's mind, and he wrinkled the arches.

He had to find Nyx. He had to find Nyx right away. 

He concentrated his magic, blew... and opened a portal. A proud smile lit up his face : he had been able to use his parents' advice ! Normally he would have bragged about it to them, but right away he couldn't say anything. He suspected that they would not let him go.

He took a new breath, prepared himself for all eventualities, and crossed the gate with a determined step.

**[He had to find his big brother]**


	14. [ Brother, my brother ]

_ “Why keep him awake?” _

_ It was a question Ink had been asking himself for a long time. Since Nyx had reached adolescence. Since Nightmare had put a terrible, horrible spell on him, at least for those in need of sleep. _

_ Not that the Artist gave a damn, far from it. He was just curious, intrigued even, not the strange choice of the master of nightmares. After all, Nightmare saw in Nyx an heir, so wasn't it foolish to weaken him like that? _

_ But the keeper of the nightmares had given him the most serious answer in the world: _

_ “Have you never experienced sleepless nights? As the hours go by, as the next day comes, one can see thoughts, ideas, worries multiplying. At night, when we don't sleep, our worries and apprehensions grow, become so great that nothing seems possible anymore, that tranquility gives way to paranoia. Insomnia is the dark side of imagination, joy and hope. In the morning, everything seems confused, disaster scenarios assail our minds, and the day unfolds in this second state, this state of terror. We get up, we tell ourselves that we're going to make it.” _

_ He had a sinister smile on h _ _ is face: _

_ “But once you go to bed, once you try to sleep and you're confronted with the night again... the same scenario happens. And the constant terror makes us lose all hope. We can't see what's really around us.” _

_ He had watched Ink sneer: _

_ “This way, isn't it easier to keep him under our control?” _

_ Yes, you do. It was a lot easier. _

_ And Nyx was well aware that he was being manipulated all along. But what could he do?  _

* * *

PaperJam should never have gone there alone. He knew that, of course. But there was no way he would sit there and do nothing, and if he had asked for help, he would have been forbidden to go! 

Of course, he could have called Goth, but Goth would have told Geno, who would have told Error! So, option to be avoided. 

Jammy found himself wandering in the multiverse, feverish but determined, and above all terribly lonely, trying to feel the magic energy of Nyx.

But he couldn't feel it. On reflection, he had never felt it.

It had only increased his anxiety and he had hesitated to return to his parents - who were probably looking for him.

**[But he felt it.]**

Confused, PaperJam didn't understand. He didn't understand why he suddenly felt the magic of his daddy Ink... twice.

The incoherence was even stronger when he had perceived an anomaly in one of the two magics, and it's the anguish - as well as the curiosity - that pushed him to go towards this strange magic.

Oh, for God's sake... why did he go alone?

He hadn't thought about it, he had to admit it. Yet he should have been alerted by the magic that appeared out of nowhere and which, as if by chance, showed up when he was alone. He should have been worried when he saw this magic that seemed to be calling him. He should have worried when he had arrived in this AU desert.

But he hadn't done any of that.

And the reckless child, besides not being suspicious, didn't realize that he had been watched since his arrival in that remote UA. Observed? No. Scrutiny would be the operative word. Scrutinized from head to toe, examined, judged, by that red look filled with hatred, the look of an Ink who was not his father, far from it, very far from it.

“I led him to us. Get rid of him now.” commanded the Creator of the future at Nyx's address.

Nyx opened his eyes, to look at his father with terror and incomprehension:

“Don't you want to take the place of your doppelganger and thus acquire his family? What is the purpose of killing this child then?

\- This child is not my son. He will never be my son like you! You were not born of my union with Error! This kid is from the Ink of this timeline, this Ink that I will take care of making disappear, who in no way deserves MY Error! He didn't fight for it, he didn't know what I went through! He cheated! Cheated because of you! I will never accept it, I will never accept anything that comes from him because of you! Including that stupid, weak kid!”

The cartoonist was caught in a cold sweat, intimidated by the angry look his father gave him. He could only nod his head feverishly, trembling, and Ink gave him a satisfied smile:

“Good. Join me when you're done. And don't be long.”

He opened a portal and went through it without waiting.

Abandoned to his fate, Nyx felt a sob hugging his throat as he turned around to observe PaperJam a little further away, poor Jammy who hadn't noticed him yet and who didn't suspect his fate for a moment.

No... No, he couldn't feel pity. He couldn't sympathize, he couldn't let himself be touched. PaperJam meant nothing to him, at least Nyx tried to convince himself of that. But how can you convince yourself to hate a young skeleton who has supported you so much these last months? A little skeleton who was mischievously coming to sleep with him every night, keeping him company during his long insomnia ? A little skeleton who had the delicacy to never reveal his withdrawal crisis ...

PaperJam was too nice ... And it was this kindness that was going to kill him.

Jammy barely had time to react when he perceived the use of magic not far from him. Before being able to defend himself, his legs were swept by a tentacle, and he collapsed head first against the ground. Confused, he raised his head in panic, only to freeze at the sight of Nyx standing nearby, looking down on him. Looking at him in a way that PaperJam hated...

The child swallowed as he saw tentacles materializing from the shadows. He didn't understand anything anymore, but Nyx was definitely not in his normal state. 

The appendixes sprang towards him, with the clear purpose of quickly reducing it to dust. And if PaperJam didn't move, nailed to the ground by surprise and anguish, he was nevertheless able to raise his voice as his big innocent and confused eyes planted themselves in Nyx's eyes:

“Big brother... ?”

The tentacles froze a few millimeters from his body, while the older one petrified in amazement, the words dying in his throat:

“.... W-what...?” stuttered the cartoonist.

PaperJam felt his soul squeeze. He gratified his elder with a look of anxiety, fear, but above all .... Filled with a tenderness and love that surprised Nyx. 

Slowly, braving his fear and ignoring the appendages that seemed as frightened as he was, the child came to gently put his hand on a tentacle, to gently caress it to calm him, to comfort him.

“.... You called Ink 'Daddy' .... explained the younger one delicately. And ... You have tentacles, you draw ... you eat black apples .... Your eyes change shape ... So, DaddInk and Nightmare are your parents ...?”

The perspicacity of his younger brother surprised Nyx, who made his tentacles disappear in panic, retreating one step: 

“I...”

Jammy puffed up his cheeks: 

“I'm not an idiot... Don't lie to me...”

The Draftsman observed him for a few moments, unaware of this turn of events. He finally looked down in shame:

“... No, you're not stupid. Quite the contrary. You're right, I am the son of Nightmare and Ink. But I come from another timeline...”

Paperjam tilted his head to the side, intrigued. He got up slowly without letting go of Nyx's gaze:

“... Timeline ... My parents often talk about it, but it only concerns AUs like Undertale ... But I understand the principle. You're, like... a possibility? Something that could have happened in our lives? And I must be the same for you, right?

\- It's, like... (Sighs) It's kind of like that, yeah...”

The child took one small step, then another, so as not to frighten his brother, giving him time to get used to his presence as if he wanted to tame him. And it seemed to work, for despite his trembling, Nyx let him approach without making the slightest gesture.

“... Nyx ... if you tell me what you're afraid of ... ?”

The drawer tightened, his throat tied, before finally raising his eyes full of tears towards his younger son:

“... I ... I ...”

He put one hand over his mouth, choking a sob.

“...I don't want to destroy my family again...”

He closed his eyes, repressing the tears that were burning his eyes, and that was enough for PaperJam to brave the last meters that separated them, and come to embrace him with all his strength:

“... you won't destroy it. You are too nice for that...

\- ... No. I'm sorry, Jammy... Y-You don't know what I could've done... You don't know me...”

The child laughed nicely:

“There's a lot of things I don't know, but that doesn't stop me from trusting! You know ... I don't know Father well ... he's clumsy with me, and he's afraid to touch me ... but I trust him because, even though he doesn't talk much, he protects me and tries to make me happy.”

Jammy had a lovely smile:

“Just like you, Nyx. You try to help and protect everyone, so you're nice! My sweet big brother!”

He came to rub his face against his chest and Nyx's cheekbones took on a soft mauve hue. The child finally let him go:

“So, what can I do to help you?”

The elder one frowned on the arches, before he began to think:

“... I don't know myself what I can do ... what I want to do ... I want my parents to be happy, but in order to do that I have to hurt other people I love... 

\- And is that necessary?

\- ... ...excuse me?”

Nyx watched his younger brother look innocently at him:

“Will it really make them happy that you're doing this?

\- ... Yes... that's what they want...

\- But... what they want won't necessarily make them happy. I want candy all the time but Papink won't let me eat it... It annoys me, but at the same time it's to make me healthy, and therefore happy!”

Nyx blinked, surprised by his words... and finally he started to laugh. At first softly, then more frankly, as if all his pressure suddenly disappeared, that he was freed from a weight too heavy for his shoulders.

PaperJam was surprised:

“Did I... did I say something stupid?”

The drawer caressed his skull while trying to calm his laughter, his pupils regaining a soft golden color:

“No Jammy, on the contrary. You're absolutely right!”

The child's eyes opened wide when his elder carried him suddenly. He looked at him confusedly:

“Nyx? 

\- Let's go home little head! It's time for me to take control of my life!”

Something that made PaperJam smile and raise his fist triumphantly:

“Yeah! Well spoken!”

They exchanged a knowing glance and Nyx took out his pencil, making a gesture to create a portal. But of course, nothing could simply happen. Fate, karma, whatever else, did not wish to help or support poor Nyx, whose life seemed to mock him every minute of his existence. 

Fate came in the form of a tentacle which flashed towards the two brothers, and if Nyx had the presence of mind to step aside, he petrified when the appendix stole his pencil from him!

“No,” he exclaimed as he turned his head, only to be covered in cold sweat the next instant.

Nightmare, his father, was standing there, looking bad, looking quite.... disappointed.

PaperJam hiccuped in fear as he came to hide against Nyx, trembling, feeling the negative aura of the nightmare master amplify throughout the entire UA.

“I should have been firmer”, scolded the guard, whose pupil crackled with anger. “Ink gave you an order, execute it Nyx!”

The drawer moved backwards, feverishly ... before puckering the arches and putting Jammy behind him, not without letting go of the Nightmare gaze.

“No, he said. I'm sorry, Father, but I can't hurt my little brother. 

\- HE'S NOT YOUR BROTHER!” shouted the master of woe. “THIS IS NOT YOUR TIMELINE! THIS IS NOT YOUR LIFE! YOU DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE, AND YOU WOULD BETRAY ME FOR THEM?!”

Nyx gently rubbed PaperJam's back to calm his tremors as he faced his father with more determination:

“I've only known them for a few months... but they're all I've ever dreamed of... I won't let you take them away from me.”

Nightmare shudders like his aura, before his blue eyes become darker than ever, before the air around him becomes icy, before the earth beneath their feet trembles and cracks under the weight of an increasingly uncontrollable magic.

The hoarse voice of the guardian rose:

“I should have finished you at birth.”

Nyx became livid, grabbed PJ against him as his own tentacles materialized to surround them, forming a shield that Nightmare clashed with when he attacked them. 

The shock was severe, Nyx wince at the impact, not feeling able to match his father. He kept Jammy against him and dragged him abruptly into the shadows, only to move furtively and at high speed away from there. It might have worked if Nightmare wasn't a dark follower himself ....

“Poor coward ! Is this how I raised you?!” he cried, turning the Nyx's soul blue, before forcibly pulling it out of the shadows.

The cartoonist hiccupped, dropped PaperJam and fell to the ground as he himself was thrown against a nearby rock. Although the pain was nothing compared to what he had already experienced, he still let out a yelp of pain as he collapsed to the ground, landing badly on his hands. 

He grimaced, feeling his wrist electrify him. To think that this wound would never have the slightest respite ...

Nyx looked up at his father. He had no desire to fight him, but his sire left him no choice.

Nightmare passed Nyx's tentacles without harm, probably because the rage made him more powerful than ever. He made the bones appear and threw them at his son, scolded when he saw him dodge them, decided to turn his soul blue a second time and suddenly pulled him towards him.

Nyx hiccupped, could not hold his body, which was heavily propelled towards Nightmare. He yelped when his father grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up without the slightest softness, darting an angry look at him.

“Nyx, you're just a...”

The keeper stopped suddenly, surprised, as if he had noticed something that had been too well concealed until then:

“.... That a kid ... weak ... and dependent ...”

The last word had been blown slowly as an unhealthy smile appeared on the teeth of the master of misfortune, whose gaze had been illuminated with a sadistic glow full of madness:

“That's why you're not getting anywhere at the moment... You have no more apple ~”

Nyx petrified, his breath accelerating in anguish as he watched his father without knowing what to do.

Paperjam, not far away, also tensed up, remembering all too well the crisis that his brother had made, crisis which had been able to be calmed only thanks to apples precisely.

Without understanding the desire to cry which had suddenly embraced him, Nyx felt his magic trembling, trembling under a terrible apprehension. And Nightmare's smile only added to his palpable horror.

So ... what can I do to make you a good dog again?" the guard purring. Should I give you apples? Would you be interested? »

Nyx's magic became more painful, his body seemed to be bitten from the inside, violently lacerated by frost teeth. Each of his bones screamed grace as his pupils slowly began to alternate between blue and gray, panic and supplication. 

“N-no...” he articulated slowly, using violence to answer nothing else.

But his body screamed the opposite, his whole being was sweating and begging, while his mouth spoke only lies that Nyx would have liked to believe:

“I don't care about apples...”

_ {I need it}  _

“No matter what it does to me...”

_ {I'm scared} _

“It doesn't matter if I disappear... I wasn't even supposed to exist...”

_ {I don't want to die}  _

“I, uh...”

The tears came back furiously burning his eyes, but he struggled not to let them out.

“I... I... I...”

Nightmare had darkened, arched arches, hating the response, which sounded to his ear canals like a pathetic, laughable lament.

“... To think that I saw you as my heir... when you're just a stupid emotional kid playing grown-up.”

**[CRACK]**

A painful crack. An umpteenth on the trembling soul of Nyx.

“... I just wanted to see you happy...” the drawer hiccupped as the first tears began to fall. “I just wanted to...”

He screamed at the ground, his spirit twisting as his skull hit the ground. One minute his heart was high, and the next he regurgitated. He regurgitated a reddish liquid with a pungent taste, while the world around him began to turn, that his body gave him the impression of being torn apart and crushed, oppressed, on the verge of yielding, of breaking.

“NYX!” shouted PaperJam while straightening up without daring to intervene more, petrified of terror by the negative aura of Nightmare which also gave him desire to cry.

The master of nightmares looked at his son with an evil eye, his fists clenched:

“... Since you want it so badly, why don't you just die?”

His magic was activated, forcing Nyx to curl up on himself as the guard scolded:

“... Die of madness, you idiot.”

Nightmare snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened.

...not in the eyes of PaperJam at least. But Nyx, he felt it violently. That storm that swept through him, that invisible padlock that gave him nightmares every night, that fucking, fucking spell that had begun to crumble in the last few months...

And Nightmare had just struck the fatal blow. 

He had definitely removed the spell that was keeping him awake.

Far from seeing this as a release, Nyx lost his pupils, his face turned livid. Panic, fright, horror, terror. ****

**_[He sank into darkness]_ **

**_[He sank into silence]_ **

**_[He fell into fucking nightmares]_ **


	15. [ Waking nightmares ]

He opened his eyes, lost as to his situation, lost as to the time and space around him. Lost without knowing what he was doing there, what events had brought him here. Or rather ... what had brought him back here.

Nyx stood up sharply, his throat tied, and immediately he knew something was wrong, that something was wrong. His gaze anxiously swept across the room as he recognized without the slightest difficulty the place that had seen him grow up all those years: those .... Those fucking dungeons ... that silent, dark place where he was locked up.

Panic gripped his soul, forced him to throw himself on the bars, to scream without thinking:

“GET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT!! DAD!”

But these cries were only trifles, one detail among others, something that was ignored without the slightest difficulty, so small was its importance. What did we care if Nightmare's bastard screamed his throat out? He was a dog bred to obey, and a dog didn't have to bark like that. When a dog makes that much noise, we punish it. We punish him severely.

We let him be locked up for example. Even though we know that the dog in question is claustrophobic, that it is terrified of the dark, that it cannot stand silence ... We leave him anyway. We leave him to his fate. Because we think that's how he'll learn. And indeed, he learns well and beautifully.

He learns to fear, to shut up, to obey. 

Nyx was just a fucking dog.

* * *

Nyx screamed, standing up sharply, his body sweaty, his mind in panic. He trembled, trembled as he had never trembled before, and his gaze turned with terror to where he was ... to realize he wasn't in the dungeons. That he wasn't in the dark. That he wasn't alone.

“N-Nyx!”

The cartoonist didn't have time to react, so they jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly. Destabilized, he took time to realize that he was outside, in this deserted UA ... in the company of PaperJam.

“... Jammy ... ?” he asked, before he froze at the sight of his crying cadet.

The child, terrified, clung to him a little more, shaken with uncontrollable sobs. 

Nyx hiccup. The events hit him in the face, making his eyes wide open. He grabbed the child by the shoulders, taking him away from him to observe him from all angles with concern:

“Jammy, are you hurt?! Did Nightmare do something to you?!”

The youngest appeared surprised, before suddenly crying more beautifully, shaking his skull sharply:

“B-But no! You're the one who is wounded! Y-You've collapsed! You didn't move, a-and Nightmare left, and I was all alone, and I-I ... I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do, I - ... !”

Nyx brought him back to hug him tenderly, caressing his back gently as he felt his soul hugging with emotion, moved by the anxiety of the smallest child and feeling guilty for having left him so alone and destitute:

“No, Jammy... you did the best you could ... and if you had intervened, you would have been hurt. I never would have forgiven myself...”

The child did not hold back another sob as he shook his head again, as if to say "I don't care, I should have saved you".

Nyx would have liked to take his time, to pamper him, to comfort him ... but the sudden disappearance of his father worried him. Why did he leave like that, without finishing him off or PaperJam? Although, after reflection, the cartoonist suspected part of the answer... 

**[Dying of insanity]**

He swallowed, got up hastily as if he had just burned himself, astonishing PaperJam who also got up without understanding.

“... W-We should go back to your house. Your parents must be worried.”

Jammy came over and gently took his hand:

“... Our parents Nyx ... Our parents must be worried ...”

The drawer tensed up, having only one desire: to flee from the innocent gaze of his younger brother. He didn't answer anything, didn't know what to answer except something that would have risked hurting PaperJam. So he kept quiet and came to get his pencil, abandoned somewhere nearby - if Nightmare hadn't stolen it from him.

“... Nyx... you're bleeding...” Jammy squealed as he shook his brother's hand a little more.

The cartoonist was surprised, and slowly passed one hand through the back of his skull, only to realize that he had a gaping fracture from which blood was actually flowing. He grimaced at the sticky feeling before wearing a forced smile to make a good face in front of PaperJam:

“Don't worry, it is not much. More fear than evil as they say !”

But the child wasn't fooled, far from it. Yet, despite this obvious lie, he did not make the slightest comment and let his elder child fetch his pencil. Finally, Nyx found him stranded between two stones, as if he had been thrown there carelessly.

As if Nightmare had deliberately left him ...

Nyx took a breath, trying to ignore this constant fear, and finally began to create a portal ... before he felt his magic squeak, his instability suddenly becoming more powerful.

He barely had time to hear PaperJam's scream before his body toppled over, a dark veil fell over his eyes.

* * *

He was shaken brutally, forcing him to wake up without being able to defend himself, forcing him to get back in touch with the bitumen on which he was sleeping, with the nauseating smell of the dungeons, the freezing cold of the basement ...

“Hurry up, you poor shit! You've got your training!”

Nyx blinked his eyes, nauseous as he felt himself being tossed, crossing Dust's irritated gaze as he grabbed him by the collar to pull him, forcing him to stand up even though he was in no condition.

“Cross wastes enough time training you, don't make him wait any longer!”

He shoved him out of the dungeon gently. Nyx barely reacted, two of them tense, and dragged himself up the stairs, ignoring his aching and wounded body. The climb was a long dream, a moment of respite in this ocean of torture and vain hope. The moment was cut short by Dust, who joined him in a few steps to push him again, forcing him to speed up the pace.

“I don't understand why he wastes his time training you... the killer said. Nightmare's not ready to give up his position, and you're clearly not the right skeleton to replace him.”

Nyx said nothing. There was nothing to answer. Wasn't that speech always the same anyway? The same words, the same spikes, the same insults, the same blows... What's the point of fighting the inevitable anyway?

Dust grabbed his arm and walked even faster, ignoring the grimace of Nyx who was struggling to follow him. The ordeal finally ended when he opened a door on the fly, before throwing the young skeleton into the room and leaving.

Nyx almost fell, but managed to catch himself. He lowered his eyes as he rubbed his arm, before a throat scraping startled him and made him look up. Although he should have been frightened by Cross's impassive face, he was terribly relieved.

“Hello Master.”

The younger one was forcing his voice. A voice hoarse from all the screams of his long nights of confinement.

Cross didn't answer immediately, looking up and down, lingering on the cracks, the gashes, the unhealed wounds that ran through his pupil's bones. He sighed finally, before turning away reluctantly:

“Let's get started. Do you feel like holding a gun, or do you want to stick to the basic exercises?

\- You don't need to spare me Master, I am here to progress, not to rest.”

His teacher held another sigh, struggling to remain marbled by Nyx's deplorable condition. But what could he do? Nightmare was keeping an eye on them, he knew. Cross couldn't afford to show the slightest affection to his young pupil, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Well” he said. “Let's begin then.”

* * *

The shock was severe. Nyx squealed, not understanding what was happening. Despite his open eyes, his vision remained vague and abstract, not allowing him to analyze the situation except that he was lying down ... or standing? He was no longer aware of his position or his sensations, except for the pain that ran through his body.

“NYX!”

He hiccupped, confused, his magic reacting violently when that all-too-familiar voice came to caress his ear canals. He blinked his eyes, caught his hands pressed together without being able to move... to get up. Was he lying down? Yes, he was on the floor. He had fallen out of bed, or so he thought? What was going on?

The question had to be asked, especially at the sensation of his arms coming gently to support him, bringing him back against a warm torso that gently caressed his back.

“Nyx, calm down, it's all right...” whispered gently the same reassuring voice.

Lost, the black-boned one could not believe it. He raised his face, feeling the sobs reach his throat as he crossed the gaze of Plum, his sweet Plum who looked at him with concern.

“Nyx ... you are conscious ... ? Do you hear me... ?”

The youngest one failed to crack, an unbearable torment pushing him to curl up against the other skeleton, to hide his face against his T-shirt to conceal his tense face, his treacherous tears invading his eyes.

“Y-Yes...” he moans piteously, seeking comfort from his lover.

Yet Plum seemed surprised by this familiarity, and if he didn't push him away, Nyx clearly sensed that something was wrong. That something... was different...

The sound of a door startled Nyx.

“Darling, is he awake?” asked the cartoonist again, unknown to him.

Voice unknown ... but not entirely. Nyx petrified, his eyes wide open, as he heard the other skeleton respond to the voice:

“Yes, sweetheart, but he's panicked. Can you get me some water?”

... "Sweetheart ... "darling" ...

Nyx abruptly walked away from his lover. His lover who was not his lover. His Plum who wasn’t his Plum. The Plum that was not his Plum, the Plum that looked at him incomprehendingly, the Plum that must not have understood Nyx's distress and despair as he became aware that HIS Plum was dating someone else, a Grillby. 

But Plum had never liked him anyway, not even in his timeline.

“Nyx, calm down, you have nothing to fear!” gently assured Plum, who didn't realize the problem wasn't what he thought it was.

The younger one retreated further back, shaking his head nervously before taking his skull in his hands, nervous "No no no" escaping him before he hit the bedside table on his back and his skull threw him furiously. That's when he realized that he had been bandaged, but again he didn't care. He just wanted to get out of those nightmares, not to see HIS Plum with anyone else.

**[WITH THAT STUPID GRILLBY WHO DIDN'T DESERVE IT]**

“SHIT!” Nyx swore as he cowered, closing his eyes to focus on his spell that kept his emotions, his negativity, alive. The fucking spell that had been slipping through his fingers for some time. 

**[He wasn't supposed to crack, he couldn't crack, he wasn't allowed to crack]**

He opened his eyes, suddenly terrified, and straightened up sharply:

“Where is PaperJam ?!”

Because he was good with PaperJam before... right? Was it just a dream, was there ever a Jammy ? 

Grillby approached cautiously:

“The boy is sleeping. He was exhausted.”

Nyx got up in a hurry, too quickly, because he was dizzy and had to lean on the bed to avoid falling. And Plum, in his innocent kindness, came at once to support him: 

“You must also rest, Nyx ... You're terribly weak, you won't last long in this state ...

\- N-No... I need to...”

The pain in his skull made him pause, put a hand on his face before he started again, inspiring him to stay calm:

“What happened?”

Plum hesitated:

“... a gate opened in the middle of Underlust, and you and PaperJam fell out of it. You had lost consciousness ... and the boy was too panicked to explain the situation properly. So... well, we gave him a sedative to make him sleep a little bit. Oh, and I've warned Ink, he should be back soon.”

Nyx was seized with fright. His soul twisted, so did his negativity. 

**[Control eluded him]**

Plum widened his eyes, his cry got stuck in his throat as a tentacle grabbed him by the neck, blocking his breathing while Nyx's pupils turned red:

“DID YOU WARN INK?!”

Why warn Ink? Why would Plum do this to him? Why was Plum doing this to him?! He knew Ink was a bastard, that he wouldn't do anything for him, that he was going to hurt him again, that he was going to...

**[He wasn't talking about the same Ink]**

Nyx had only just realized that a wave of flame propelled him against the back wall. He yelped, almost falling to the ground, as his appendages released Plum and Grillby took the opportunity to receive his lover.

The cartoonist regained his bluish pupils, Plum watched in horror.

**[He could have killed him]**

“... I-I... I didn't mean to...” 

**[He could have killed his lover]**

**[No... No, it wasn't his lover.]**

**[It wasn't his lover?]**

**[Not in this timeline]**

**[What timeline?]**

**[What timeline was he in?]**

**[WHAT WAS HE TALKING ABOUT?!]**

* * *

Nyx screamed, cowering over himself, crying to awaken the entire UA. He could put his hands over his mouth, bite his palms, try to swallow his tears, but his sobs wouldn't stop. His face drowned, ravaged by his terror and distress, he hid further in the corner of the room, unable to ignore the darkness ...

Until a soft mauve light shone on him. Only small, delicate hands took one of his own to caress him, to reassure him.

“... Nyny... it's okay...” Softly whispered little Lux, who was in his care while Dream, Cross and Error went off to fight the Bad Sans.

This blackout had been the worst thing... Since he had been living at Error's house with his uncle, his teacher and his cousin, Nyx had always enjoyed light, noise and freedom. Dream had personally taken care of his comfort, probably out of guilt that he had never been able to do anything for his nephew for years.

Lux, far from mocking his phobia, continued to caress his cousin's hand, whispering reassuring words to him. His patience was matched only by his maturity, even though she was so young ... 

“... Nyny ... it's okay to be afraid. It's okay to be afraid. 

\- N-No... I don't... I don't... I...

\- You're alive... like all of us... all living things are scared, it's normal.”

He sobbed again, letting the girl come and hug him gently and continue to pamper him.

*** *** What was going on? *** *** 

Nyx hiccupped, the face buried in his hands:

“Lux... I'm so scared...

\- ... Lux?”

He tensed up, raised his head to meet Plum's gaze.

“P-Plum... ?”

He blinked his eyes, to yelp the next moment as he saw Lux in front of him, Lux bending her head incomprehensibly:

“Who is Plum?”

*** ***  **What was going on?!** *** *** 

_ [Have you never experienced sleepless nights?] _

He's backing off. Was he backing out? Wasn't there a wall a moment ago? 

_ [As the hours go by, the worries multiply]  _

What was going on? Where was he? What was he doing? 

_ [All you have to do is die of insanity] _

Lux, Plum, Jammy, Ink, Nightmare, Cross, Error... What timeline? Did he change the timeline? Was it in his own? Was it just an illusion, what had he done? His efforts, his hopes, his doubts, his feelings, his fucking love scorned by those who didn't want him, who had never loved him, who had used him, his being, his abilities, his weakness ... ! 

_ [The boundary between sleep and reality is blurring]  _

_ [Memories mingling in the present] _

_ [A blockage. A vicious circle] _ ****

**_[A PRISON]_ **

A new black veil. 

Then nothing.

Nyx didn't wake up this time.


	16. [ Yumerai ]

Hello ! 

  
First of all, thank you for the lovely messages, I'm glad you like the fanfiction.  
Don't hesitate to pass by my [tumblr](https://luna-almighty-god.tumblr.com/) to find my drawings and follow my news!

Enjoy reading!

* * *

__

_Pathetic._

_Useless._

_Weak._

_Through feelings too powerful to be controlled, Dream had been stripped of his role as guardian of positive emotions. Not by any third party, but by himself._

_Unable to save his brother from corruption, he had been forced to watch him corrupt the multiverse, corrupt his best friend, destroy the world that had been theirs by hurting the people they loved._

_In the end, Dream had lost everything. Nightmare at first, then Ink, then his friends like Blue... And how to explain his horror when he had discovered the birth of Nyx? That he had seen the way Nightmare treated him, that he was helpless in front of his nephew that he was unable to help?_

_Dream had simply been useless._

_Too weak to maintain positive emotions, to watch over dreams. Too weak to protect whoever it was. At least it was too weak as a guardian, as a 'nice little peaceful skeleton'._

_So he had made a decision._

**_[He had disavowed his role.]_ **

_No more being nice, because in his timeline, kindness didn't lead to anything. Nothing at all. He had convinced himself of that. Trying to sound like his brother, trying to sound like Ink... useless, just useless. Only the hard way was working now, and Dream had made that clear._

_Draw his bow, materialize an arrow of light, shoot without the slightest hesitation at his brother, target him between the two orbits. And even if Nightmare had managed to dodge, his stunned face was enough to anchor Dream in his ideas._ ****

**_[The sweet Dream no longer existed.]_ **

_Looking for a way to make a difference, to save their world, to save what's been lost. That was the mission that Dream had set for himself. To make up for their mistakes, their weakness, by changing the moment when everything had turned upside down, that little moment that had sealed their fate._

_Oh, Dream had never thought of erasing Nyx, far from it! In his eyes, the birth of his nephew was in no way the cause of this decline! No, the problem went back further, to the insecurity problems of Ink and Nightmare, but also to the problems of the whole multiverse. Because to be so easily corrupted by the master of misfortune, it was that their world wasn't going so well in the first place ..._

_Everything was so complicated. There wasn't just one problem to deal with, but the problems of multiple monsters. Everything had to be considered, every detail counted, every action, every sentence... Killer who sought comfort from Color to forget Nightmare, Color who was dying of jealousy because of his one-way love, Dust and Horror who saw in Nightmare a support and a model to follow to overcome their doubts and weaknesses, Error who was terrified at the idea of committing himself with Ink..._

_Hundreds of gears that worked with each other. The gears of misfortune that had really failed when Nyx was born._

_Nyx was not the cause, only the extra element, the drop in the bucket._

_Dream would have wanted to tell him so many times, wanted to reassure him ... but he had never been able to do so. For Nyx didn't listen, Nyx was stubborn, Nyx was... was... was simply locked up, imprisoned by his parents' vision. That skewed vision that put all the blame on the poor little skeleton._

_“I don't know what to do to help him...” he blew, sat on the floor, head down as he felt Error come over to him._

_Error who was looking in the wave, hands in his pockets, smoking a cigarette with his teeth without really enjoying it._

_“It's not by words but by actions that we'll have to change him.” he replied._

_Dream had gently raised his head, to observe the Glitch in silence, before looking into the void in turn to address the Destructor again:_

_“... I still don't understand why you're doing all this... Why you took Nyx under your wing... Why you allowed me to come live with you, with Cross and Lux...”_

_The other breathed a puff of smoke without casting the slightest glance at the guardian of dreams, only to answer with a shrug that made poor Dream sigh. This did not help him any more in his questioning ..._

_“...would you try to redeem yourself because you think you are responsible for our situation?" insisted the young dream. Do you think that if you had been different with Ink, all this wouldn't have happened?”_

_He felt the Glitch tensing up, only half a second before he was suddenly grabbed by the pass to be pulled against Error, to meet his eyes crackling with a rage that he was struggling to control, to swallow as the voice of the Destroyer became low, terribly hoarse, broken by the many hardships of recent years:_

_“... You talk too much Dream. Don't make me angry.”_

_Dream felt electrified. Electrified by that aura, that look, that voice... By this being that he had cherished for so long, without ever daring to say anything about it. Because he didn't want to betray Ink... and Error would never love him anyway._

* * *

Dream shook his head, clearing his memories to stand in front of the gate that was waving in front of him. This was no time to dither. He had to cross that blue whirlwind, go back in time, save his nephew - if he wasn't dead yet ... - 

But he found himself frozen, unable to take a single step. He hadn't told Cross or Lux. He had left his family behind only to take responsibility for his own actions. For suggesting the idea of going back in time, for not realizing that the gate had to be closed, for... everything. Absolutely everything. The corruption of his brother and his friend ... the fact that he gave too much responsibility to Nyx ... and ... the death of Error ...

He shook his head, took a breath, tightening his grip on his bow. His cracked crown, with missing pieces in it, seemed heavy to carry today...

**[He frowned]**

**[He went through the portal]**

* * *

Nightmare didn't know what to think as he roamed the AUs with increasing nervousness. Everything was in turmoil, seemed incomprehensible to him and at the same time terribly clear. A truth that he refused to admit but that kept biting his mind.

Nyx possessed changing pupils, tentacles, a pronounced taste for drawing, the ability to blend into the shadows ... Nyx knew them by heart, but he also knew an Ink who seemed to come from the future.

Nyx ... was his son from another timeline.

“... Damn it... (Sighs)!” he growled as he quickened his pace.

Nyx was his son... damn it... it was so hard to swallow, to accept! Of course, the master of misfortune had tenderness towards the youngest, but not to the point of considering him as his child! Insomnia was his child, not Nyx! Because Nyx... Nyx was...

Nyx was his friend. A precious friend.

A friend he'd pissed off in a fit of anger, when the cartoonist went out of his way to help them, to help them have a happy life. It was because of Nyx that Nightmare had the family life he had dreamed of... and Nightmare had acted like the worst kind of bastard.

Now Nyx was missing, as was PaperJam who had apparently fled the house. Ink and Error had found out too late and were now worried to death, actively searching for their son in all universes without any possibility of finding his magical trace, as if it was camouflaged.

Nightmare growled. The magic was hard to camouflage. Powerful spells had to be used, which didn't reassure anyone about little Jammy's fate. Was it this Ink from the future who had gotten his hands on the boy? Unfortunately, there was a good chance ... And shit, "Ink from the future" was so boring to pronounce! Especially since he shouldn't be alone, and Nightmare couldn't see himself saying "Ink from the future", "Dust from the future", "Killer from the future" ... or even "Nightmare from the future". It was repetitive, boring, useless.

“Ink is gaga over paint... Can't I find a nickname to go with it?”

Slowing down his run to think, he stopped suddenly at the agreement of a weak, very weak sigh. Or rather a whisper. A word carried by the wind, it seemed to him:

“ _Etsuko_ ...”

He frowned at the arches, looked around him suspiciously without seeing anything except the few flowers echoing nearby. But it couldn't have been them, could it? The echo flowers were just repeating what they heard. But it seemed like a strange coincidence that they would repeat such a word right at the very mention of Nightmare, a word that sounded a lot like a name.

The master of misfortune shrugged his shoulders: he wasn't going to worry about that. It was worth taking the ...

“ _Etsuko_ ...”

He turned to the flowers. Why did they seem so insistent? Was he getting the wrong idea, just blaming poor, harmless flowers? 

He sighed:

“Okay, let's go for Etsuko...”

He waited a while, to see what would happen. But nothing... Nothing at all. And this realization tensed him: why didn't the flowers repeat what he had just said?

Suddenly his mind twisted, encountering a sudden magical apparition. His eyes widened: PaperJam ... he was not camouflaged anymore ! And from what he could feel... he was in Underlust?

Despite the terrible apprehension that it was a trap, Nightmare had no choice but to rush there, knowing in advance that Error and Ink must already be there, having surely reacted faster than him.

He disappeared into a portal, not knowing that he should have lingered longer by the flowers ... because he could have heard the sweet laughter that escaped from there. A laughter that accompanied an amused voice:

“To think that I have to intervene for silly nicknames... !”

* * *

Life had been good to him. The last few days had probably been the best of his life. Yes Ink was happy. Happy to finally be reunited with Error, to be able to live his love with him, to be united with him. To shake his hand, to embrace his body, to devour his mouth. Exchanging caresses, tender words...

And came PaperJam, his adorable child, so cute, so innocent, so sweet and gentle. The family he had always dreamed of ... accompanied by that truce with the Bad Sans, who had offered him new friendships. Horror, Dust, Killer... but especially Nightmare.

Nightmare... with whom he should have had a child? Who he should have had... Nyx...?

When did it escape him, the Creator? When only a short time ago he thought everything was 'normal'? That Nyx was just one skeleton among many, a skeleton with whom he had befriended?

_Nyx held out a chip which Ink willingly accepted, stuffing it in his mouth as he sniffed it, wiping his tear-fogged eyes. The one with the black bones slid his hand over his skull and gently caressed him, in an almost paternal gesture that soon reassured him. Finally, he finally dozed off, far too comfortable in the bed that was not his, smelling the odor of Nyx that had permeated the sheets and which, it must be said, was not unpleasant._

Nyx lying unconscious on the ground, his head resting on the knees of a worried Plum.

“... He... collapsed? Just like that?” Ink questioned, having a hard time grasping the situation as his trembling voice testified.

Plum looked at him feverishly:

“Y-Yes... I don't understand... I don't understand ... he ... He seemed to have a panic attack, then he lost consciousness!”

It wasn't a simple blackout, Ink knew that all too well. For Nyx, besides breathing with difficulty, was sweating heavily, his body boiling, as if he was in the grip of a violent illness.

“... He would be sick ...? hesitated the Creator without daring to approach.

\- He was fine only yesterday, said Error, who was standing next to him. He couldn't have gotten so sick in one night in ...”

But his voice died, interrupted by another which rose softly behind them:

“... Nyx is not sick ...”

Ink and Error turned around at breakneck speed to see their little Jammy in the doorway. Jammy's gaze was fleeting, due to his fear of being scolded by his parents but also the worry of seeing Nyx in such a state. Trembling with tears in his eyes as he felt his soul beating at full speed in his rib cage, he curled up on himself, ready to burst into tears:

“...A-a... a nasty Nightmare... he hurt Nyx... e-and Nyx kept falling asleep and waking up... like he was having a nightmare...”

Ink remained mute of stupor, to finally throw himself on PaperJam that he came to hug with all his forces, perceiving all the terror which lived in him, under the glance of Error who was divided between the desire to take his family against him and the desire to find this 'bad Nightmare' to explode his face.

“Calm down Jammy... the painter breathed, gently caressing his son's back. It's all right now...

\- N-No, it's not true, it's not all right!" cracked the boy as he let out a sob. I couldn't protect my big brother... and the bad guy's gone, he'll come back, he'll hurt us... !”

My big brother. These words struck Ink's mind with force as his face became pale. So PaperJam had understood who Nyx was? No, the real question was... Had PJ accepted Nyx as a real member of their family? Without worrying about some timeline story? 

Error grinned at the same words, but preferred to ignore them to concentrate on another detail. He came and crouched down beside Jammy and, timidly, caressed his shoulders in a clumsy attempt to comfort him:

“... PaperJam ... Do you know where this 'bad Nightmare' has gone?”

The child sniffed and shook his head as he came to curl up more against Ink. 

Error remembered an insult when he saw how his son had been upset by the whole thing. He addressed Ink seriously:

“So there is not only an Ink from the future but also a Nightmare. And it won't surprise me that there are still others, which multiplies our enemies and therefore the danger. They must know the multiverse on the tip of their knuckles, probably better than we do.

\- ... What do we do then? replied his lover. Do we prepare a counterattack? Do we hide? Do we wait? We skim the whole multiverse blindly?”

Faced with the painter's terribly rough tone, Error frowned on the arches:

“I don't know Ink. It's useless to take it that way!”

The Creator shot him with his pupils turned red:

“You give me a catastrophic summary of our situation without providing any solution! If it's just to depress me by putting me up against the wall, you can keep your remarks to yourself!

\- I stated the facts and the possibilities! We've never been faced with such a danger, these guys probably know us better than we know ourselves! They can anticipate our actions and...

\- And what? I'm well aware of it, who do you think I am? 

\- For a skeleton that seems to have already given up! 

\- How have I given up? I'm trying to take care of my sons here!”

Error bugged for a moment, before straightening himself up quickly by clenching his fists, pushing PaperJam to squeak with fear when he saw his parents arguing like that.

“ **Your** sons?” repeated the Destructor coldly. “You have only one son, the one WE gave birth to!”

Ink gritted his teeth, closed his eyes to put his mind in order, imperceptibly squeezing PJ against him as if to give himself courage. He finally looked at his lover again:

“Nyx may come from another timeline... but I can't see him as anything other than my son.

\- ... Are you kidding me?”

Error didn't know how to feel. Anger, frustration, jealousy, misunderstanding? He could accept that Nyx was Ink's son, but ... in **another** timeline, and only in **another** timeline! Not in theirs! Because in theirs, Ink was his, his and nobody else's, let alone Nightmare's! 

“Yesterday you considered this guy a friend! And now you suddenly adopted him? Stop pissing yourself off!”

But if the voice that answered him was Ink's, it wasn't his Ink's voice. An evil, sadistic voice, whose sinister sneer shook the walls of the house and the monsters in the room.

“I agree, Error. This poor version of me is really infatuated with anyone!”

The yelp of PaperJam, thrown to the ground without the slightest softness, was nothing compared to the scream Ink uttered when he was hit hard by an ink tentacle that sent him waltzing against the wall.

Although Error was caught unawares, he didn't let himself be destabilized and received his son in panic, before catching Ink with his bluish threads while making bones to defend himself. His eyes filled with anger went to a corner of the room, and a shiver of hatred ran through him as he noticed the presence of this Ink of the future, quietly leaning against a wall with his arms folded.

“You bastard, you've got guts to bring your mouth here!”

His lover's double had a bad laugh before stepping towards him:

“Don't take it like that Ruru, I only come to free you from a weight.”

The magic of Error crackled, seething with resentment at his words, and the voice of Glitch sizzled with rage:

“I will smash you. I will destroy you for daring to touch my family.”

The future Ink raised his eyes to the sky before shaking his head with weariness, as if annoyed by such nonsense:

“Let's see Ruru... **I'm** your family. 

\- Call me 'Ruru' one more time... and I assure you I won't be in control.

\- ... You're hopeless. Why can't you understand all the love I have for you? I probably love you much more than that old version of me. Do you understand that? Do you understand how much this version you're dating makes fun of you? He hasn't made the slightest effort to win you over, hasn't experienced the pain and sorrow that I have. He had outside help, and now that he's got you, he's turning to Nyx! Nyx that's not yours! Who's a stupid skeleton that came out of nowhere! What's next? Who's to say this Ink didn't turn away from you? That he won't leave you for Nightmare, only for the "good" of a son that isn't his?!”

The real Ink was recovering from the previous shock and was listening, with bitterness and anger, to the words of his double. This him of the future .... Did he even realize he was talking about his son? His son who was standing unconscious in the same room with him? Did this Ink from the future only realize that Nyx was at his worst?!

“... My Ink is an idiot, Error suddenly approved. But it's him and no one else that I fell in love with!!”

The two Ink hiccupped simultaneously, one deeply outraged and the other terribly moved. Before one of them recovered from his emotions, Error threw bones in the direction of the _impostor_ , destroying part of the house in the process under the desperate gaze of poor Plum.

The Ink of the future just had the opportunity to leap backwards without dodging the entire attack. He grimaced when a bone was planted in his shoulder and had no choice but to retreat again, ending up outside the house, in the infinite cold of the Underlust Snowdine.

Error came to rest PaperJam, furtively caressing his skull before teleporting to his opponent and attacking him again. The child squealed, his face ravaged with fear and sobs, while looking terrified at the raging battle outside. 

Ink hastened to his feet to draw Broomie:

“Plum, watch over my sons!” he ordered before throwing himself into battle.

An explosion sounded, followed by a burst of magic and the shrill sound of a blaster. The blast raised a wave of snow that fell with a crash, hiding the opponents under a smoke of ice. But despite the reduced visibility, Plum and Jammy realized that neither the Creator nor the Destroyer could defeat their opponent. 

**[Cause he knew them by heart, as Error had guessed.]**

The snow finally fell, revealing more clearly the battle that was taking place. The threads of Error were sharply cut by vile tentacles, and the Ink of the future dodged an attack without difficulty by suddenly transforming himself into a puddle of ink, before taking a normal form just behind the Destroyer that he immobilized with his appendages .... So that these can be sliced in turn. By other tentacles.

“Wha...? wondered the one from the future.

\- To think that I found Ink boring... But you're worse Etsuko!” cried the familiar voice of Nightmare, a voice of fun, defiance and anger. A voice coming from everywhere and nowhere, as if out of the shadows, out of the mind.

The three opponents stopped all movement to look around them while the Ink of the future frowned on the arcades with confusion and mistrust:

“Etsuko...? he repeated.

\- A little nickname, so as not to confuse his mind. And specially to differentiate a painter relou from a crazy painter.”

Nightmare finally appeared, standing between Etsuko and the two others, stinging an icy glance on the one of the future:

“But it doesn't matter, since you'll only be dust in a few minutes.”

The nightmare master's appendages agitated, whipped the air like a threat, while Etsuko stood staring at the guardian of bad emotions.

“... Ink... Etsuko... however I'm named... blew that of the Future. Anyway... That won't stop me from **killing** you.”

His face was torn by a terrifying smile... and he vanished.

Nightmare winked in disappointment and winked back to swallow a scream when he felt a pain twist in his arm. He winced, realizing that Etsuko had taken him as a traitor, and turned sharply to counterattack. However, he only hit the void, which made him growl.

“Bastard... !”

He jumped to the side and felt an ink puddle slip at his feet, and his gesture was not useless, for the next second his enemy came out of the puddle and threw sharp bones at him. Dodging, feeling one of the weapons brushing against him, he weighed himself down and teleported himself to the heavens, to make a Gaster Blaster appear, with which he shot Etsuko.

Etsuko who used his appendages as a shield, before materializing in his turn a Blaster. But instead of aiming at Nightmare, he took advantage of the other Ink's inattention.

Ink, still a bit stunned, who just had the opportunity to turn his skull before being dazzled by the powerful flash of the energy beam.

“INK!” Error and Nightmare shouted simultaneously as they watched in horror as the painter was about to disintegrate.

But it didn't happen. A golden light appeared for a second, accompanied by a loud sound of teleportation. The blaster wiped out where Ink had been, but not a trace of the Creator among the cloud of dust and debris.

Everyone was mute in amazement ... before Error was startled by the realization that there was a new presence behind him.

“Is everything okay?”

He turned around, opened his eyes, just like Nightmare who was unable to explain what they saw: Ink, safe and sound, gently carried in the arms of ... No... it couldn't have been... Yet there were very few skeletons wearing such a crown. But despite the appearance that didn't deceive... Nightmare didn't know if the skeleton that saved Ink was indeed Dream.

Ink himself seemed confused about who was supposed to be his best friend:

“... Dream?” he hesitated. 

No, it couldn't have been Dream. Dream was a young skeleton, smiling and sparkling, with a soft warm aura. While this skeleton... this skeleton didn't have a smile on his face, not even a shred of joy. He only looked tired, exhausted... and deeply angry.

It was Etsuko who broke the silence again, his magic crackling even more angrily than before:

“ **Goddamn Dream! Always in my way !** ” he spat.

The three skeletons of this timeline freeze, having now the confirmation that the new one was indeed Dream. But so... the future Dream? This one rested Ink with a great softness, before patting his head amicably, but always without emitting the least smile:

“I will take care of him. Rest.”

It was not only addressed to the painter but also to Nightmare and Error. Finally he came to look into Etsuko's eyes and his face became harder, more implacable.

“Destroying our world wasn't enough for you, you also had to come and wreck another timeline?

\- That you who gave me this opportunity.” Etsuko replied.

Dream sighed... and the arrow he shot was faster than the speed of light.

Etsuko hiccupped, screamed, fell to his knees and grabbed his belly, to turn his bewildered gaze towards his ribs, towards THE rib that the guard had aimed at and hit hard! Marrow was already starting to flow out of the wound to stain his clothing, but before anyone could really become aware of the situation, Dream teleported himself just in front of his enemy, to prepare his bow again and put an arrow in his face.

This time, the corrupt Creator did not let it happen and teleported himself in panic, several meters away from the guardian, to counterattack with his tentacles. Dream dodged a first appendage, contrasted a second one with his bow, but was whipped by a third one. This did not destabilize him, he kept an imperturbable face, and again used his bow to shoot a new arrow.

Nightmare twitched, his eyes clutching said arrow. His twin, guardian of dreams and good emotions, had always had this ability to generate arrows of light. But this Dream of the future... Its light was not pure. On the contrary, it seemed dimmed. Like... Like it was ready to sink into darkness. 

If that made him pale, seeing his brother attack Etsuko without mercy made him even more unstable. 

“Are you trying to play the hero? accused the corrupt painter. You, the guardian who gave up his title after abandoning his family? You're nothing but a Dream sub-shit! Don't come and stand up to me and play the Good Samaritan!”

The Dream Keeper tensed up, to shoot a new arrow, this time missing his target. 

“... I don't play the hero ... he blew trembling. I'm not, I never was... Unlike you. You were the hero of the whole multiverse, the Creator, the Keeper. But you chose to turn your back on everyone for a stupid one-sided love.”

Etsuko trembled, shaken by his words, and his anger was mixed with guilt and sadness that brought tears to his eyes. Yet he did not cry, on the contrary: his negativity gave him even more power, and in a hateful howl he knocked down his tentacles again.

Dream lowered his bow, his eyes exhausted, as if ready to submit to death ... to finally teleport at the last moment, dodging the attack before he sighed:

“... "Deep down... maybe I would have ended up like you, if you hadn't given me the counterexample. Seeing you sink into despair made me want to move on, to tell myself that I didn't want to end up like you.”

He sighed again while closing his eyes, as if to give himself courage, then raised his head, resting his golden gaze on the Corrupt Creator, this Creator who was once his best friend. 

The golden glow of his pupils changed, sank, and became darkness.

Nightmare hiccupped with terror, as did Ink and Error ...

And the Dream of the future aimed again at his enemy, materializing at the same time an arrow darker than the darkness itself:

“I am no longer a guardian. I'm no longer a Dream.”

His voice had darkened as much as his gaze, and the icy air finished to petrify the group:

“... I am Yumerai, the vengeful dream.”


	17. [The burden that oppresses us, the future that hurts us]

Etsuko's strength seemed to have increased tenfold, no doubt due to the rage that now animated the slightest of his movements. This rage, this burning fire kindled by Yumerai, this inferno of terror and resentment that he only wanted to pour out. And what better targets than his four opponents to let go, to let off steam?

He smiled sadistically, pulled out his appendages and shot them at Yumerai, but the bloody archer dodged far too well, too quickly and nimbly for the corrupt painter.

Realizing that he would come to nothing, he weighed down and made a blaster appear, firing blindly at his enemies, taking great care to have part of the city in the background. If he couldn't hit his opponents, he was at least going to destroy Underlust as he had done in his timeline!

Unaware of his thoughts, Yumerai teleported himself away from the blaster, as did Ink, Error, and Nightmare ... until the Creator froze.

“He's targeting Snowdine!” he cried as he understood the attitude of his double, the double ready to sacrifice innocent monsters!

It's too late for that. Having no time to prepare a shield, our four protagonists watched helplessly as the ray headed towards the city... ...only to crash into a massive sword, which seemed like a flash of magic to come between the beam and the city.

Etsuko and Yumerai's eyes opened wide, and if the corrupt being felt a new reason to be angry, the archer couldn't help but hiccup feverishly.

As Ink, Error, and Nightmare watched in amazement, a hooded figure teleported into the heavens, and landed with ease on the handle of the sword.

Etsuko screamed in rage, before the ink at his feet formed a circle and revealed a portal, into which he hurriedly rushed.

Yumerai yelped, and clumsily regained his wits to put his enemy under yoke. But Etsuko vanished just before the arrow stabbed him, causing the guard to swear as he tightened his grip on his bow. 

Behind him, the figure jumped to the ground and retrieved the sword to hang it on his back.

Thus Nightmare, Ink and Error witnessed the most unlikely scene they had ever seen: Yumerai violently kicked a snowdrift into a snowdrift while screaming:

“I'm gonna get him!”

What the figure sighed as it approached him: 

“And at what cost? How long are you going to continue with this behavior?”

The guard turned around and looked at the other one:

“I didn't ask you, Cross! And what are you doing here?!”

The swordsman looked up to the sky, took off the hood that had protected him from the dust and snow, and revealed his jaded face, where his characteristic red scar could be seen... and another scar in one of his eyes. Still, he was in every way similar to the Cross that Nightmare, Ink or Error knew, and everyone understood that they were dealing with a different version of the future.

Yumerai got even angrier, but instead of accusing Cross again, he took his head in his hands, almost scratching himself with his knuckles as he cowered, shouting. A scream of hatred, of despair, which seemed to make everything around him tremble, which accompanied the tears of guilt that came to drown the poor archer's face:

“DAMN! I could have fixed everything ! I would have killed him and all this would have been over !!

\- Dream ... began the swordsman.

\- NOT DREAM ! YUMERAI! YU-ME-RAI! 

\- Yumerai, even if you kill Ink - something I know you can't do - you'll never achieve anything. Nightmare is also here.”

The guard hiccupped, as hurt by the truth as by Cross' attitude, who seemed to really take him for a stupid kid. This only pushed him further into his entrenchment, and finally he collapsed to his knees, managing miserably to control his sobs.

Nightmare flinched. Surely this Dream wasn't HIS Dream. But that didn't change the fact that he was a version of his twin, the twin he loved so much and had been trying to catch up with for some time ... so seeing his dear brother in such a miserable state made him seethe with anger. He clenched his fists, his magic began to crackle, but before he could tell how he thought about this Cross, Ink interrupted him: 

“Nightmare... Let's not get carried away. Those two saved us and Underlust...”

True, but this Cross was still unbearable to see. Besides, where did he get such a powerful sword from? Last I heard, their own Cross didn't have such a weapon! Nightmare sighed, finally grumbling and giving up on the idea of a monochromatic soapbox. 

Instead, he approached Yumerai cautiously, which was easy since the archer wasn't paying any attention to him. However, the master of misfortune tensed up a little more with each step: why didn't he feel the positive aura of this Dream? 

“Hey, D... Yumerai.”

The Dream Keeper finally leapt to raise his tearful gaze to him, making Nightmare tremble as he nearly retreated. Yumerai sniffed softly and ran a hand across his face, clumsily wiping away the slowly drying tears.

“...oh... it's you...” he replied weakly. 

Nightmare raised an archway:

“... Yeah, that's... me.”

The archer stood up feverishly to face him, as if he had never had such a tearful fit the moment before, despite the salty traces clearly visible on his cheeks. Cross, for his part, did not make the slightest comment and looked at both of them impassively. 

“I'm sorry about all this... Yumerai apologized - both to Nightmare and the other two. In view of the situation, I think you understand what's going on ...

\- That an Ink from the future has come back to the past to kill us? Yeah, we know about that,”Error retorted, approaching in turn.

The sight of the Destroyer froze the archer, who quickly looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable:

“... Y-Yes, indeed, but not only. Cross and I come from the future, and unfortunately ... The Bad Sans of our time have also visited your timeline. I've come to stop them...”

He went on to give Cross a black look:

“...and you are going back to our house.

\- I'm not going back. 

\- You have no business there! How could you leave Lux alone?!”

The swordsman raised his eyes to heaven for the second time:

“Are you really asking me to go back to our collapsing timeline that may cost us our lives?

\- I am asking you to go and look after our daughter! 

\- But she's fine, I took her with me! What do you think?”

Yumerai petrified, becoming livid with terror:

“You took her... with you? What the hell has gotten into you?! She is the ideal prey for our enemies!!

\- Would you have preferred to leave her alone with us?

\- NO! That's why I wanted you to stay with her !!!

\- By staying with her, I risked condemning us both.”

Yumerai opened his mouth, finally giving up the idea of retorting and dryly protesting. Cross always had the last word anyway.

Ink raised an eyebrow:

“Oh done... I'd just like to establish two things... the first... Nightmare, why did you call my future self 'Estuko'?

\- Mm... I figured a nickname would prevent misunderstandings.

\- Okay. (chuckles) Might as well do the same with the other future travelers, then! Dream is Yumerai, Nightmare is Oshoku and Cross is Shiroken!”

The group observed the painter with scepticism, and it was Error who decided to break the silence:

“... And our opinion in all this? Then how did you come up with nicknames so quickly? 

\- Own, you underestimate me Ruru! I've been thinking about it since my double arrived, I'll tell you! And, uh... It was the flowers that gave me those names!”

Nightmare nearly choked:

“The flowers?”

Ink pouffa before nodding his head:

“Didn't you know Nighty? The Creators can communicate with us through the flower echoes. They usually never do... except on rare occasions. And today, one of them gave me nicknames for your you and the Cross of the Future!”

Cross from the future who seemed to have plunged into deep reflection, before finally having a very slight smile:

“Shiroken... I approve. I like it.”

This made Yumerai look up at the sky, annoyed. Cross always made him think that changing his name was ridiculous, and today he accepted to be named Shiroken without the slightest hesitation? He blew, holding back the comment that was tickling his puck, and came to look away ... to get tense when his eyes met those of Error.

He swallowed but found himself unable to look away. Why was the Destroyer staring at him like that? What was he thinking? Why was it so hard to guess his thoughts when Yumerai felt like an open book? There had always been this strange power relationship between them. The archer, although he could feel the emotions, struggled to understand the Glitch. And conversely, Error - who couldn't feel the emotions - managed to read him with a simple glance!

A cold sweat ran down the guard's throat. Even though it was easy to read him... Error couldn't guess it all, could he? He couldn't guess how he felt about him, could he? Because besides making him deeply uncomfortable, it could also make his past self look childish! 

Feeling himself on the verge of cracking up again, the archer turned his attention to Ink:

“You were talking about a second thing to establish, right?”

Ink nodded his head, regaining his serious air, but above all terribly worried:

“Yumerai... You know Nyx, don't you?”

The guard petrified, as did Shiroken, who suddenly seemed much more interested, before suddenly grabbing the painter by the shoulders:

“Nyx?! Is he alive?! Where is he, how is he?!”

The swordsman came to pull him gently back:

"Dr... Yume, calm down.

\- I can't, all right?! Stop trying to temper me! 

\- T...

\- I know there's no point in overreacting! I know there's no point in yelling, crying, brooding! But damn it, it feels good, you know? Blowing up, going crazy, I got a right to do that once in a while! 

\- That's...

\- It's useless, isn't it? Stupid? Laughable? What am I to you, a kid? I'm probably overreacting, but you've closed yourself off beyond reason! It won't kill you to cry once, if only to mourn Epic once and for all!”

The silence fell back abruptly, heavy with meaning and sudden guilt. Yumerai's guilt when he felt the hand on his arm tensing up, Shiroken's face lost a second of its impassivity to hint at a shock and a suffering that had been mastered with difficulty.

Finally the swordsman gently released him, regaining his composure despite his slightly weaker voice:

“... I just wanted to say... that Ink couldn't answer us if you were asking him too many questions...”

New silence, even heavier than the previous one. The palpable uneasiness failed to shake the three skeletons of the past, and while Yumerai tried to apologize, the words failed to come out and he shamefully lowered his gaze, nervously triturating his phalanges, while Shiroken turned away his eyes in his turn.

“... Hmm... Ink resumed after clearing his throat. Actually, about Nyx... He's alive. But he's not well..”

The couple from the future looked up at him lividly.

* * *

For the umpteenth time, silence hung over the group. Our protagonists were back in Dreamtale, at the castle, with the Bad Sans, Insomnia, PaperJam and Plum. Everyone had taken their seats in the living room and had been waiting for a while. They were waiting for Yumerai to examine Nyx, who had been put in his room. 

Nobody dared to speak up. And even if someone had the courage, what could he have said? What was there to say? They all had so many questions... and none of them had any answers.

None of them... except...

“Shiroken?” Cross called out timidly, leaning against the table.

His version of the future uttered a slight "Mm... ..." without giving him a glance, as he sat in an armchair, busy cleaning the blade of his sword. A sword that intrigued his double from the past:

“... Where did you get such a weapon? I have no such weapon. 

\- ... No, you don't. At this time, you possess a sword a little less impressive.”

Shiroken raised his head to take a melancholy look at his counterpart's weapon:

“...I remember when I had such a sword... I had escaped Chara's control, but I had managed to keep control of his abilities.”

He went back to cleaning his blade, before ceasing his movement to observe its reflection, caught in a visibly difficult reflection in view of its arcade pucker. He sighed:

“... You have to know how to make concessions. Freedom is not always the best solution.”

What petrified Cross:

“... What do you mean? What's happening to you... what's going to happen to me?

\- Nothing will happen to you. The timeline has been changed, you won't take the same route as me. So don't worry about anything and just try not to have any regrets. Like... don't wait until you lose the ones you love to admit how you feel about them.”

Under normal circumstances, Cross would probably have blushed. But at that moment, the warning frightened him to take a step towards his double, while his soul was beating a little faster:

“... Is Epic going to get killed?”

And the trembling of his voice had not escaped anyone's notice, let alone Nightmare's, who felt the growing fear of his subordinate. 

Shiroken seemed to hesitate, raised his head, perceived the curious and apprehensive looks of others. He sighed again: 

“... Ignore my timeline. I told you, it has nothing to do with yours. Nyx has completely changed the course of things.

\- But if he hadn't, what would have happened?” Killer intervened, gently squeezing Insomnia against him.

The one from the future began tapping frantically against his sword, a sign of an anxiety he was losing control of:

“... At home ... Nightmare and Ink had an affair. It came out by accident, and some people didn't accept it. Already the inhabitants of the AUS, who blamed Ink, their protector, for making a pact with the public enemy.”

To his words, the painter reached out without interrupting the story:

“... of course, Error and Killer did not accept it either. Error's attacks became more violent and frequent ... As for Killer, he closed himself off. Life in the castle became more oppressive, and this outpouring of bad feelings made Nightmare unstable.”

Dust was surprised:

“What? But the boss gets his power from negativity!

\- That's true, he agreed. But the wrong amount of power has consequences. If Shiroken is right, my doppelganger must have received a monstrous dose of negativity, too much power in one go. 

\- ... ...and it drove him to insanity...”Killer whispered.

A nod from Nightmare, who gently embraced his lover's waist with one of his appendages while questioning Shiroken:

“But what was Yumerai doing? He's the keeper of positivity. It's his role to ensure balance and set me limits, just like I do with my Dream.”

The swordsman frankly froze this time, as if this question had just burned him, that Nightmare should never have asked it. 

“... Yumerai did the best he could. He never ceased to do his best, even to this day. Whether it was to right the wrongs of others or his own, he always surpassed himself, always went beyond his limits. And today, he is the one who is on the verge of dementia and despair.”

He came to shoot Nightmare with a glance, sliding his hand on the handle of his sword while the threat was obvious:

“... If anyone comes to accuse him of anything...”

He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to. Well, fortunately, Nightmare was the last person who would blame his twin for such a thing. After all, hadn't he himself failed in his duty as guardian many times?

Finally, Shiroken went back to cleaning up after himself:

“...the birth of Nyx was the last straw. The breaking point. I understand that Error and Ink had had a violent argument, which ended when Ink's vials were broken.”

Words that made both the Creator and the Destroyer shudder, and Shiroken didn't help by continuing:

“...as for Killer, he vanished overnight. Finally, 'disappeared' ... he simply went to Color, as he had threatened him so many times. You can imagine how angry Nightmare was at that moment.”

Oh, 'anger' was an understatement. Nightmare had gone into a terrible, shattering rage that had driven him to destroy several AUs in just a few days, generating even more negativity in the entire multiverse.

Horror, who had stood back until then, suddenly raised his voice:

“Why didn't they have an abortion?”

Time seemed to stand still.

“...what? Shiroken wondered.

\- ... Ink and Nightmare. I don't know which one carried the child, I guess it was Ink, but... why didn't they just abort?”

Ink became a little paler, suddenly terribly feverish, and probably would have wavered if Error hadn't held him back:

“Inky, what's going on? inquired the Destroyer worriedly.

\- ... I... I know why Etsuko didn't have an abortion...”

His comrades looked at him. He stuttered:

“Never... never... never would I allow the destruction of a being I had created... No matter how small ... no matter how 'failed' or 'unwanted' it may be ... when I create something, I cannot destroy it, that's all ... 

\- ... Yet your version of the future didn't hesitate to attack you and Underlust,” Plum intervened, staring at him, bitter that his universe had been attacked. Underlust may not have been the most incredible place on the multiverse, but it was still his home.

Ink passed a hand over his face, had to sit on the couch to come to his senses:

“I know... I know... I'm sorry, it's... Shiroken, you said his vials were broken?

\- Yes, I did.

\- ... ...it's because of my connection with Ruru that I can now feel without my vials. But as for Etsuko... if he didn't benefit from this bond, he must have ended up like a rag doll, devoid of all emotion. 

\- ... and from what I saw he must have been corrupted by a black apple, Nightmare said. Etsuko is therefore no longer a vulgar rag doll... but an evil doll made only of negativity.”

Shiroken slowly nodded his head, agreeing to say it, and the silence fell back to give everyone time to assimilate the information.

At least until footsteps resounded from across the hall, to reach the living room and let out an exhausted Yumerai.

Ink got up immediately:

“What's up? How is Nyx?”

Shiroken stood up in his turn, but to leave his place to the archer who came to slump in the armchair with great pleasure, before answering with a sigh:

“He's asleep.

\- ... He's asleep ...?” Ink repeated confusedly.

\- Yes. Several years ago ... well ... more years in our timeline... my brother put a spell on Nyx. A spell that prevented him from sleeping. The kind of spell that drives anyone crazy after not even a few days, and I don't understand how Nyx could last for years... Fuck, he probably cracked countless times without me knowing about it...”

Words that freeze the others before Nightmare gets carried away :

“And now what, why is Nyx sleeping now? My doppelganger removed the spell?

\- ... it seems... Yumerai replied feverishly. And of course, Nyx's body and mind couldn't stand it... being deprived of sleep, only to have it suddenly come back... And again, it's a miracle he didn't die instantly. The spell must have worn off before my brother pulled it off, but...”

He closed his eyes, trying to stay calm:

“...in short...he's making up for all the years he didn't sleep.”

Nightmare petrified, as did his classmates, who understood the gravity of the situation.

“So Nyx has gone to sleep for many years?!” exclaimed Horror.

Yumerai nervously tweaked his knuckles, before finally giving the dreaded answer: he nodded slowly, as if by fate. 

The shock was hard for everyone. As they assembled the complete puzzle, they slowly became aware of everything they had ignored until then. Nyx who had appeared mysterious, but nevertheless smiling and quiet, like a support, a friend, someone they could count on ... and who suffered in silence from the beginning. Who withstood the hardships without gnashing his teeth. 

And as everyone felt their souls getting weighed down by these revelations, a voice of unshakeable gentleness came out of nowhere:

“Is it really wrong?”

They were startled, and Yumerai suddenly stood up and looked around him:

“Wha... Lux, is that you?!”

And Shiroken, in turn, stood up and gave his companion a jaded look:

“I told you she came with me... 

\- Don't start! She didn't show up, I thought ... 

\- That I had lied to you?”

A sigh was heard:

“Fathers, can you please stop this useless arguing?”

The light from the ceiling light sizzled suddenly, once again surprising the assembly, before the emitted light came to illuminate the centre of the room, to give a glimpse of a silhouette that emerged from the luminosity, revealing a young female skeleton, whose cracked skull let out a mauve magic that created a short hair, and whose frank fell on one of her eyes. The other one, however, showed a purple pupil that moved from one corner of the room to the other, before stopping on Yumerai:

“Dad, the fact that Nyny's asleep seems to be a foregone conclusion. But isn't it better in reality?”

The archer was confused:

“What do you mean... ?

\- We know him. Nyx was exhausted, his sleepless nights drove him crazy. The less he slept, the more he lost his lucidity about his actions. How many times did he fail to return to his parents to 'please' them? How many times did he almost betray us, convincing himself that it was the best choice? You know better than I do, Dad: someone who doesn't sleep becomes fragile. All the more so when that same person is forced to eat black apples every day.”

Nightmare petrified, before shattering the table on which he smashed one of his appendages:

“WHAT?!”

Obviously the others yelped and the fear caused a tearful fit in Insomnia, which Killer hastened to rock awkwardly. 

Paperjam, him, came to take refuge against his parents trembling:

“... Y-Yes ... Nyx eats black apples ...

\- Did you know that?! Ink exclaimed.

\- ... I- He... when we slept together... he panicked... he needed to eat one...”

Shiroken growled:

“... He had a withdrawal seizure.”

And little PJ became livid:

“... And so... He needs those apples to live? Does he really need them? If he doesn't eat them, he'll have a fit again? 

\- Yes, he will.

\- M...But the evil Nightmare said he has more apples!”

Shiroken and Yumerai looked at him in terror, while Lux flinched for the first time despite his seemingly impassive look.

“He... has no more apples?” repeated the archer.

Paperjam nodded his head as tears came to his eyes:

“S-so if he sleeps, but he's out of it... What happens? 

\- ... I just... stuttered Yumerai. I don't know, I just... There are too many possibilities. Either sleep will prevent him from having a seizure, or no... Or lack of apple might keep him from waking up, or he might... he might...”

The fallen goalkeeper's breath began to quicken as he curled up again, his body shaking more and more. Shiroken knelt down beside him in panic, to clumsily take him in his arms and comfort him as best he could, but Yumerai didn't even catch his gentle attentions.

Lux bit her tongue, then turned to the Ink and the Nightmare of the past:

“Well, I'm taking command of our next operation.”

The master of misfortune is outraged:

“Are you kidding? I-

\- Do you want to help Nyx or not?”

The guard swallowed his reply, which Lux took as an affirmation:

“Look, we don't have hundreds of solutions... And I'm like you: not sure what the best choice is. I just want Nyny to be okay, I want my parents to be okay ... and that won't be possible as long as the bad guys on our timeline want to destroy us. 

\- ... Fighting them will be complicated, Shiroken intervened. We've faced them before, they know our moves. And they also know their doubles from the past. We can't take them by surprise. 

\- ... Yes, we can. Maybe we can... by using the ones they don't know.”

The young teenager turned her head towards Paperjam and Insomnia. Immediately, Error and Killer stepped in:

“But are you sick?! cried the Glitch. Leave our sons out of this! The other nutcase from the future has already tried to kill them!”

Lux began to fiddle with the bottom of her white dress, annoyed:

“So what? Are we going to attack them knowing that we won't be surprised, or are we just going to wait cowardly for them to attack us first?”

But Yumerai's voice interrupted his daughter:

“...or we send them back to our timeline... and we close the portal...”

Lux turned to him:

“... "Daddy... this doesn't solve our problem... 

\- ... If... But yes, that's it... !”

The archer rose abruptly, his arches gathered: 

“That's how we're going to do it! 

\- ... C-Come like this? I don't understand Dad, how... ?

\- We'll do all three. We'll act first using the ones they don't know... and wait for them to attack us.”

And as the archer began to explain further, the rest of the group held its breath. 

**[They'd only get one chance]**


	18. [ And there was light ]

The blackness, the darkness, nothing but darkness that frightened him and pushed him over the edge. The darkness that terrified him, imprisoned him, suffocated him to the point of terror and anguish. This opaque veil that concealed so much, that concealed this hatred that was held against him, this darkness that was only too similar to his corrupt soul.

Yes, Nyx's soul was corrupt.

Once, in times long past, it was purple. A pretty mauve, soft and tender, which made the little upside-down heart want to cuddle this not yet defiled soul.

It hadn't lasted long.

“YOU'RE WEAK! SO WEAK!!”

Ink had yelled at him so many times, beaten him up, failed to finish him off... It was Nightmare who had stopped him, Nightmare who had protected him from the fury of the painter.

“You dare to tell me this kid is OUR kid?" Ink exclaimed. It's just a silly mistake !!! Let's get rid of him!”

Nightmare had hesitated a long time. So long hesitated... And finally, he had taken one look at Nyx. The poor little half-conscious Nyx, barely breathing, watching the master of nightmares sobbing silently, begging him with his gaze. That look that read, 'Daddy, help'...

Nightmare thought he was failing, turned around and shot Ink in the face:

“If you don't think of him as our son, I don't care. But I will make him my heir. He is MY son, it is out of the question that whoever kills him!”

Use as an object? Yes, that was probably it. No doubt Nyx was nothing more than a common pawn in the eyes of Nightmare. But ... just knowing that he was **something** to him ... knowing that he could be useful to him ... ...that alone kept Nyx hopeful, alive, doing his best.

**[Even if it means eating black apples]**

**[Eaten over and over again until his soul loses its beautiful purple color]**

**[May his soul become darker than the darkness]**

**[That darkness he was so afraid of]**

Nyx hiccup. The darkness of unconsciousness, always so present, always so unbearable. Prisoner of a dreamless sleep, of a permanent nightmare, unable to regain contact with reality, or even with lucidity. He cowered in that dark space as he closed his eyes even harder.

He was scared.

He was so scared.

“Fear is a normal thing. You shouldn't be ashamed of it!”

He was startled, straightened his skull abruptly, his pupils becoming question marks as he observed around him. But there was nothing but emptiness, the infinite, dark emptiness. Was the insanity getting the better of him, making him hear voices?

“Ahah, no Nyx, I'm the best person to know that you're not crazy. Not completely!”

He hiccupped:

“Who are you... ?”

Wasn't talking to a vacuum a stupid thing to do? Oh, basically it was just one of many details. There was no one to judge him anyway, except this unknown, feminine voice, laughing again:

“Does it really matter? Mm ... I suppose it does. You must have felt so lonely... you who hate the dark, the silence and the confinement...

\- ... I only wish I knew who you were Madam...

\- Argh, don't call me ‘Madam’! When I conceived you, I wanted you using the familiar form!”

This time Nyx's pupils became exclamation marks as he tilted his skull to the side:

“... You conceived me?

\- Aha, strange, isn't it? It's true that out of context, it may seem strange! But I know that you can already guess who I am. I've taken care to give you the necessary knowledge so that you can understand the events without me having to explain them to you!”

The young skeleton was stunned:

“... Are you a Creator? My Creator? One of the ones Ink keeps talking about?”

The voice had a sweet laugh. A tender laughter filled with a love that unsettled Nyx. How can you not be confused when a voice out of nowhere seems to carry such tenderness?

"Creator... Oh, I love that word! It makes me feel all-powerful! Don't Creators seem like gods to you?

\- ... I've never asked myself that question...

\- Ahah, yes, I know. All you ever think about is your parents, your timeline. I know that... I created you like this…”

He froze... before his soul pulsed with anger, before rage took possession of his being and he stood up, shooting his reddish pupils into the space around him:

“WHY DID YOU CREATE ME THIS WAY?! WHY DID YOU MAKE ME SO WEAK?! WHY DID YOU... HAVE ME...

\- To have made you? You wished you'd never exist…”

Nyx hiccup, came and took his skull in his trembling hands as he felt the tears return to his eyes. Why would his Creator do this to him? Why did she come to taunt him like that, to remind him of his stupid, useless skeleton condition?

But he seemed to feel a caress. A gentle caress on his cheek, as if an invisible hand came to cuddle him, comfort him, and wipe away the tears that were beginning to be shed:

“... I'm sorry, Nyx. I've always been so cruel to you ... and yet I only want what's best for you. I love you so much... so much... isn't it narcissistic to love your own creation... ?”

Nyx could easily guess a sad smile on the face of his Creator. He closed his eyes, taking advantage of this soft sensation on his body, of this invisible hug that enveloped him.

“... Now you have a choice, Nyx, okay? You completely have the choice... I can make you disappear right now. I have the power. I'll make you disappear, and your family will be fine. This whole thing will never happen.”

He tensed up. This story... never would have happened? His devastated timeline, his hateful parents, the death of Error and Plum... ? But... (sighs) But also his return to the past? His friendship with his parents from another time? His meeting with his brothers, with Insomnia and Paperjam, all his moments with his uncle, his master, but also his dear Lux? All of this... gone? Gone? As if it never existed?

“I... ”

His throat had closed up.

_{ Ink's voice vibrated with palpable anger. An anger that burst when he planted his red pupils in Nyx's. The Ink's voice vibrated with a palpable anger:_

“ _ABRUPT! WHERE WERE YOU WERE? THREE MONTHS WITHOUT ANY NEWS, BUT WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? NIGHTMARE AND I LOOKED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE! “}_

"I, uh... ! »

_{"It's just that... I don't want to impose..._

_\- Are you kidding me?! Nightmare exploded. You intruded the first time we met! You've been crashing into our lives and into MY castle without letting us get a word in edgewise! You even managed to manipulate us at will! So now you shut up and listen to us!_

_\- But..._

_\- Your fucking room is still empty and we've been cleaning it up since you left! So now you put down your bags and relax, because we're not about to let you go!”}_

The Creator wondered at his sudden silence:

“Nyx... ?”

He blew for a long time, as if to regain his composure ... before finally puffing ... then exploding with laughter. A frank laugh, a crazy laugh that he hadn't had in years, a laugh that did him good, that freed him from the weight he was stubbornly carrying.

He moved away from the strange embrace to open his eyes again, to let his golden pupils see, which were mischievously observing the space where the invisible Creator was to be found:

“I promised Ink and Nightmare I would never disappear again. I promised to Paperjam to take my life in hand. So no ... No, I don't plan to disappear.”

Short silence, as if the girl had been caught off guard... before she too bursts out laughing:

“Oh, my God, it's dead! I love you too much!”

Nyx felt a tap on his shoulder before the unknown voice rose again:

“Okay buddy, got it! It's time to close this act, don't you think?

\- Ahah, indeed! But to do that, I'd have to wake up.

\- I don't doubt it. Especially since your family needs your help, their plan has gone very wrong!”

Nyx froze:

“Excuse me? And you're just telling me now?

\- Well... I thought for sure I was going to kill the story, so...

\- But wake me up now!

\- Yep, but I remind you that you're out of apples and your body needs sleep. Not sure if you can stay awake for more than a few minutes...

\- A few minutes will be plenty of time.”

The designer laughed:

“Okay, Nyxou, since you asked so nicely...

\- Hold on, hold on!

\- Mm-hmm. ?”

The skeleton had a sweet smile:

“Your name! What is your name?”

He heard the umpteenth laugh, before the world around him lit up and his body suddenly seemed to be pulled out of unconsciousness ... But before he woke up, he heard a tender murmur in the hollow of his ear canal:

“I am Luna.”

* * *

Nyx opened his eyes wide. The brightness blinded him, pushed him to close his eyes while he grimaced, but that did not prevent him from straightening up to grope for his belongings .... Before a voice interrupted him:

“Nyny!”

A sudden weight caused him to fall backwards on a mattress he had not yet learned about. He blinked again, his vision slowly adapting to his surroundings, before he finally understood where he was: in his room, in the castle... with Lux on top of him.

He opened his eyes:

“LUX?!”

And it was in spite of himself that his pupils became two golden stars, a sign of his deep joy when he saw his cousin. His dear cousin who stood up, herself moved by their reunion, and returned to embrace him:

“Oh, Nyny, you're awake! I don't understand why, but I am so happy!”

Nyx gave him back his embrace with a smile:

“Ahah, I confess I don't even understand what you're doing here... Wait .... Am I still dreaming? My mind confuses the timelines again?”

She raised an archway and looked at him:

“Confusing the timelines? No, no, I'm definitely here, and we're in a different timeline than ours. The timeline whose destiny you have changed.”

She left the bed to get up, resuming her usual composure, and made a detailed summary of the situation:

“My fathers are here too. They have allied themselves with your friends from the past to fight our common enemies. I have been charged with looking after you and little Insomnia in the meantime.

\- On me and ... wait, what about Jammy?

\- Gone with them. It was a crucial part of their plan. Those on our timeline don't know PaperJam, so they can't predict his attitude.”

Nyx became livid. He rose abruptly, wavering when his feet touched the ground and his legs trembled. Lux rushed to support him, but he refused his help with a gesture, before rushing to his bag.

Confused, the girl followed him with her eyes:

“Nyny... We both know you're not well. You mustn't move so much, especially as soon as you wake up...

\- Our family is in danger! How can I just sit here and do nothing?

\- In danger?

\- PaperJam is just a child ! How can he be a crucial part of this? He's too innocent and sweet a child! He only needs to see his loved ones in danger to panic!”

Although in this case it was he who was the one who was panicking, as he nervously rummaged through his bag.

His cousin slowly approached him:

“Nyny, don't bother looking, you're out of apples...

\- That's not what I'm looking for!”

At last he turned around and the girl's eyes widened in amazement, her hair standing up in a crackle of uncertainty as she stared unbelievingly at the golden wooden box her cousin handed her:

“Wha... Nyx is... ? You stole these from my father?

\- Nightmare ordered me to, a long time ago ....

\- ... Did you know Dream's been looking for them for years? That their disappearance is one of the reasons he gave up his role as a guardian ... ?”

Nyx bit his tongue, prey to a guilt that had been present for a long time. But he didn't let himself be overwhelmed by the feeling:

“I know, and for what it's worth, I'll apologize to him... but right now I need it. No.... I need YOU!

\- Wha... Me?

\- You're the only one who can activate them! If I touch them, my negativity will corrupt them!”

Lux swallowed, not sure where the older man was going with it, but one thing was certain: he was right. Now that her father was no longer the embodiment of good emotions, she was the only one to use them... And maybe the Dream of the Past?

She shook her head. No, she couldn't afford to drag another version of her father into their misery. So she blew, before she looked into Nyx's eyes:

“Okay, Nyny. Tell me your plan, I'll do my best to follow it.”

His cousin had a tender smile:

“I've always been able to count on you.”

* * *

Error was thrown to the ground, swept without the slightest difficulty by a tentacle of ink. His shoulder hit the ground violently, and a sinister crack accompanied his scream as he cowered in pain, clutching the shoulder he had half broken in the shock.

“DAD!”Paperjam screamed, his voice broken by sobs, as he tried to escape Etsuko's clutches.

But the corrupt painter held him firmly by the collar, displaying him like a hunting trophy in full view of everyone, causing Error to grunt and stand up feverishly.

“Pff ... Decidedly, you're as disappointing and stupid as my Error...”Etsuko pessified as he looked down on the Destroyer.

A little farther away, Ink was desperately trying to reach his husband and son, but Oshoku simply stopped him from getting any closer. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he attacked, no matter how he teleported, the guardian of the future would always succeed in thwarting him, in standing between him and his family.

Mad with rage, Ink's pupils turned red, and he threw himself with all his strength against the master of misfortune. But the latter, without even looking at him, immobilized him by means of his appendages, before taking a simple step to the side which allowed him to dodge an arrow fired by Yumerai.

Yumerai was on his knees, one leg badly wounded after having suffered a too violent attack earlier. And he could do nothing else but try to hit his brother with his miserable attacks ...

Breathless, he took a quick look at Shiroken who was teaming up with Cross, Killer, Dust and Horror to fight the Future Bads of the Future. It must be said that in the future, Horror and Dust had become particularly powerful, but above all their cruelty was reinforced.

The archer bit his tongue, turned his head to look at the portal. This portal that was only a few meters away, that you only had to cross to find yourself in its original timeline, this timeline of the morbid future, on the verge of collapse. If only... If only he could send their enemies back there and block them there for good!

A scream took him out of his thoughts, pushed him to look at Etsuko, and a shiver of terror ran through him : the little Paperjam was close to having his neck broken, under the horrified eyes of his parents.

“JAMMY !”

Error's desperate scream echoed throughout the UA, shook the assembly, and for a short - very short - second Etsuko seemed to waver, to hesitate.

This second of indecision was fatal to him: he who had the child at arm's length found himself forced to release him when his wrist was cut by an appendix that had come out of the shadows! Before anyone could understand, Nyx got out of the darkness to receive Paperjam, and then teleported himself to Error. If his soul crackled with pain at the use of magic, Nyx didn't care, his gaze anchored in that of his father.

“WHA... YOU!”

Oshoku also froze, not understanding by what miracle his son could be there, perfectly awake. And like Etsuko, his inattention was rewarded by a violent attack, an attack of Lux who appeared right in front of him, in a flash of light, to strike him with a violent spear in the belly.

Amazed, the nightmare master hiccuped in stupor, his breath taken away by the attack, but before he could defend himself, he realized that his niece had already disappeared, teleporting to Yumerai to support him.

Of course, their explosive arrival drew everyone's attention.

“What does this mean?!”Etsuko barked as he held his wounded wrist.

Nyx didn't answer, but nevertheless stared at the corrupt painter's gaze, while gently squeezing Paperjam, who was now crying against him, completely upset by the situation.

The unworthy father facing the unwanted son.

Two crimson glances that meet, glances of rage, hatred, proof of a love that will never have taken place, of a latent misunderstanding that can never be resolved. Such similar glances, yet witnessing too great a difference.

Nyx crouches down, entrusts the custody of his little brother to an Error always on the ground, but who in spite of his wounds hastened to seize PaperJam to keep him all against him, to protect him, to reassure him.

Etsuko gritted his teeth, his magic crackling with anger, his corruption manifesting itself to rant against Nyx ... and the shock took place. The appendages of the two skeletons met in contact, collided so violently that a wave of energy was propelled around them, forcing the others to retreat, while Nyx - unaware of his increasingly capricious magic - teleported for the second time to his progenitor, to punch him in the face.

Too surprised to be attacked in this way, Etsuko managed to dodge but managed to retaliate. He snapped his tongue and teleported himself back to the sky. Heavens where he made a Gaster Blaster appear on which he landed, before suddenly shooting towards his son.

Nyx didn't let the slightest emotion show through, barely panicked by this attack. The shadows moved around him before creating a shield, allowing him to protect himself from the ray, before he used his magic trick to make the bones that he projected on his opponent appear.

In the distance, Shiroken petrified at the sight and anxiously called out to Lux:

“Nyx's magic is unstable! He mustn't use it so much!”

The girl, who was watching her cousin fight, did not seem more worried than that. She seemed rather... fatalistic. Having already accepted the situation:

“I know, daddy... ...and he knows it too.”

She suddenly frowned on the arcades, to turn around and protect herself and Yumerai when Oshoku attacked them, mad with rage.

“LUX!” cried the archer as he saw his daughter facing his twin.

The younger one hiccuped, much weaker than her uncle, and bent under the weight of the appendages. Trembling, her hair crackled once again under the effort she was making, she did not hesitate in the least to support Oshoku's gaze, anger and determination distorting his features:

“I won't give up!”she shouted, ignoring her soul, which was pulsing faster and faster under the adrenaline rush.

Yumerai and Shiroken hiccuped, stunned to see their daughter so determined... and it was like a trigger, a reminder that they were not the only ones fighting, that it was not the time to let go!

The archer's pupils flashed, lit up with a bright golden glow, and he threw himself to the side to aim at his brother without hitting his daughter, making an arrow of light appear, the kind of arrow he hadn't materialized for years.

Oshoku was dazzled by it, so much so that he was unable to dodge: the attack hit him so hard that he screamed in pain as he was propelled several meters backwards.

Etsuko, who had fallen back to the ground, fought Nyx in a duel of appendages. But something he had long been aware of hit him again: his son was stronger than he was, much stronger. At least when he was in such a rage. Ah, he was the son of the keeper of negativity! Becoming more powerful under the rage... What a plague.

“I WILL SMASH YOU!”

Nyx uttered a 'ch', annoyed by such a reply, and this time it was not with his tentacles that he stopped his father. No ... this time he grabbed his father's arms with his own hands, coming to clasp his wrists as tightly as he could in order to immobilize him.

Etsuko hiccupped in amazement and Nyx smiled broadly, believing he had won this round. Except that the painter had not finished, he had more than one trick up his sleeve, and without warning he took a run for it ... before throwing his skull against his son's skull.

They both yelped under the impact, moved backwards and let go of each other, before each of them put a hand on their painful faces. Both out of breath, both clearly reaching their limit, it was Etsuko who spoke again:

“... you're... you're... you're just a mistake... you should never have existed ... and I already know, I already know that you won't exist for long ... ! Look at you, sleep-deprived and apple-deprived, using magic that will destroy you from the inside... ! You're... finished... finished! “

Nyx, breathing erratically, wiped the sweat from his forehead, his vision becoming blurred as the fight went on. He finally closed his eyes, leaned on his knees and took a deep breath of oxygen:

“ ... I ... I ... may be a mistake ... but any mistake can be ... corrected ..... “

He half-opened his eyes, looking at the ground without really seeing it:

“...and... nothing is finished... by yet... I'm still here, standing in front of you... “

Etsuko clenched his fists, trying to hold on to his shaky legs:

"...damn... why do you keep... ? Why are you...

\- ... Because I'm just like you... “

The painter froze, losing his pupils to surprise, and Nyx stood up slowly to give him a poor smile:

“...as stubborn as you are... Ahah... That proves you're my father... whether you like it or not... “

Etsuko remained silent ... unable to reply anything ... even though he only wanted to scream ... screaming that no, that kid wasn't his son... as he had done so many times... always saying the same thing, the same truth...

Yet not the words that came out of his mouth:

“...you lost... You lost... ! “

Nyx's smile became a little more frank:

“Ahah... why?

\- You're going to die ... and Nightmare is going to finish with the others ... !

\- ... Tell me ... am I the only one who noticed a Nightmare was missing, just... ? “

Etsuko became livid : what... ? He was missing... ?

He turned around sharply. Turned around... ...to realize that only Oshoku was there. Where was the Nightmare of Not...?!

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”he shouted, suddenly grabbed at the waist by an appendix that belonged neither to him nor to Nyx. An appendage that squeezed him with a sharp blow, almost breaking him in half, while he screamed even louder.

And the second Nightmare appeared, a satisfied smile on his teeth, having been waiting for the right moment to intervene. But if he was tempted to finish the painting, the cry of Nyx stopped him:

“Don't kill him!”

Surprised, the keeper of the past looked at his friend... son... well... looked at Nyx:

“Why,he said. He's your father, but have you seen all the harm he's done to you, to us? And you want...

\- I have to show him something!“

He turned to his cousin:

“Lux! Now! “

The woman nodded her head seriously, before taking out the small golden wooden box that her elder had entrusted to her. Yumerai's eyes widened at the same time as Oshoku's, both holding their breath with uncertainty and amazement ... and Lux opened the box with all the delicacy in the world, to finally reveal its contents.

**[ Golden orbs ]**

**[ Orbs containing all the dreams and good memories of the multiverse ]**

Yumerai hoqueta:

“ ... B-But ... I thought ... “

His daughter gave him an apologetic look but, not having time to explain, she turned her attention back to Etsuko while grabbing one of the orbs, to finally hold it in front of her and use her magic to activate it.

There was a bright light, which came to envelop all the monsters present to plunge them into a cocoon of warmth and sweetness. Surprised, everyone felt a strange well being, even the two Nightmares who should have found themselves burning.

**[But this light was not one that could harm them.]**

... And there was a laugh. A tender laugh. Ink's.

But... not the Ink of the past. Because he couldn't understand why he was seeing another double of himself. A double... who was none other than himself, just a few years ago. Him when he was trying to seduce Error.

_{“Pff, you're too stupid Ruru!" commented this Ink of memories laughing. Do you really think I'm going to stop moving just because you ask me to? »_

_And the Memory Wrong grunted, grumpy:_

_"Yes! Stop moving, I'll tear you down !!_

_\- Own, is that a hidden way of saying you love me?_

_\- I'll love you the day you're not so annoying anymore ! “}_

Their relationship had always been like that. Love/hate. The verbal jousting. The fights. A rivalry the likes of which we rarely see, a symbiosis, a fusion. Knowing your opponent by heart, understanding them with a simple glance. And yet, Nyx had to intervene so that they finally end up together ...

But if Ink was moved by such a thought, it was not the case for Etsuko:

“STOP!”

The congregation was startled, turned away from remembering and looked at the corrupt painter who had lowered his skull ... until his eyes were raised in panic when another memory came up:

_{Ink and Dream, over tea, laughing and chatting like best friends in the world}_

Etsuko yelps again, both at Lux's and Nyx's address:

“STOP THAT! “

And everyone began to understand.

_{Ink taking pleasure in Drawing}_

All that ...

_{Ink who discovers the multiverse, marvels at it, protects it}_

Those were Etsuko's memories.

“STOP !!!!”

Etsuko whose scream turned into a sob, a sob that tore away the luminosity, the memories, to return to the brutal reality, cold and implacable. This reality that had just assaulted him, that had made his pupils sink into a terribly pale and desperate blue.

“STOP! “he shouted again, with a sore throat.

And his eyes, soon filled with tears, soon let out a torrent of tears, while his body was in the grip of terrible upheavals:

“I'm-... I'm not... I'm not... I... I... I... !”

He didn't understand. He did not understand why those memories hurt him so much, why he was shaken for 'so little'. He did not understand how he could still feel anything about those whom he had once loved, when he had stopped taking his vials, when he had eaten a black apple, when he had sunk into negativity.

Why would he... ?

Why was his affection rising now?

And he wept, wept so loudly without caring about those around him, overwhelmed by terror and fate, under Nyx's completely extinguished gaze.

Yes ... Nyx looked at him without the slightest emotion. No compassion, no pity. He... just didn't know what to feel. Didn't know what to feel anymore. Probably would have hurt a while back. Probably would have thrown himself to his father to help him, to encourage him.

But something had been broken.

**[ Nyx felt nothing for the parent who hated him so much. ]**

And his body moved on its own, pushing him to turn away to look at the second problem. His final problem. This time, the emotions returned, more vivid than ever. They overwhelmed him as his eyes met Oshoku's.

Nyx looked his father straight in the eye, with a strength and determination that made the guard tremble. His son had never looked at him like that, had never dared to shoot him with such a terrible, cold and angry look. But what terrified the nightmare master, what really petrified him...

**[It was feeling his emotions.]**

“Wha... ?“

Oshoku had hiccupped, backed up. Why did he...?

**Why was he feeling the Nyx's emotions?**

“...you... you're…”

**[ Those emotions he hadn't felt for years ... ]**

“You... ?!”

Nyx...

**[ Nyx had removed the spell that camouflaged his feelings ]**

**[Anger, resentment, sadness, disappointment]**

Oshoku retreated again, hit harder and harder by this unbearable flow.

**[ Anxiety, anxiety, pity ]**

His body trembled while incomprehension took him by the guts, provoked a high heart which pushed him back, always back, without taking care of what was around him.

Nyx's cry brought him back to reality only too late:

“FATHER!”

But Oshoku had already fallen, falling right into the deteriorating portal. And he could never understand... never could understand why Nyx jumped with him.

* * *

Nyx wasn't thinking about all his actions, far from it. Although he tried to take everything into account, to anticipate as much as possible, life always had to catch up with him, to show him that fate was only uncertainty. He always had to have his feelings, his feelings that he had tried so many times to suppress, come back to pull him towards the meanders of the irrational.

Like now. Like at that moment when he had convinced himself that he wanted to forget his parents, to leave them behind, to have nothing more to do with them in order to save those he really loved, those versions of another timeline that had been so sweet to him.

So why would he... Why did he panic when he saw Oshoku flipped over in the portal? Why had his soul stopped for half a second, why had he felt such panic?

Why did he...

Why did he jump out to catch him?

He couldn't stop thinking about their common past. All the times the nightmare master had beaten and humiliated him, all the times he had forced him to eat apples to the point of addiction, all the times... the times... the times...

But... of everyone in the castle... of all the people who kept hitting him... Oshoku was the only one to do it with THIS look.... That dark, empty look, as if he was trying to repress something. Trying to repress... his sadness, his guilt.

Oshoku... Oshoku had made him his heir. He'd made him SOMETHING. He had given him an identity. He considered him his son. Even though he'd been the worst father in history... ...Nyx had sensed an ounce of tenderness in him. An ounce of affection.

His father loved him. Against all odds, despite the terrible misfortunes, despite the corruption that was eating him up inside, Oshoku had managed to love him.

That was reason enough for Nyx to do everything for him.

It was a reason for his body to act on itself, to throw him into that portal of evil.

And there it was. Back to their original timeline. Back in this crumbling multiverse, in this world of anguish and horror, even darker than the last time Nyx was there. The skies that formed a greyish whirlwind, as if the sky would collapse on their skulls. The air almost unbreathable, the atmosphere so icy that one could freeze in place.

Nyx rose slowly, cautiously, his throat tied by this vision that he would have liked to forget. He tried to ignore it and looked away, looking for his father's eyes.

His father who was a little further away, his back to him, curled up on himself, the appendages collapsed on the ground as a sign of abandonment.

“... Throw the others here, and close the portal…” Oshoku whispered in a dull voice.

Nyx did not answer, watching him without a word, and finally stepped in his direction.

The older one clenched his fists:

“...finish your work. Lock us in here forever, save this timeline you love so much.”

Still no response from Nyx. Oshoku bit his tongue, feeling an unbearable pressure on his shoulders.

”Damn... Why the hell are you... ?”

Nyx's footsteps stopped just behind him, just a few centimeters away, and Oshoku finally turned his skull to anchor his gaze in that of his son.

His body trembled, struck by these new sensations that were coming out of him.

**[Tenderness, affection]**

Oshoku scanned Nyx without understanding why he felt all this. Why he felt such emotions, such positivity towards him.

“... I don't understand…” he breathed halfway, looking for an answer in his son's eyes.

Nyx tilted his head to the side, not knowing what he was talking about, and the nightmare master felt on the verge of tears. He lowered his skull, unable to hold the younger one's gaze any longer.

“... How can you love me... after all I've done... ?”

He raised his head only to observe Nyx's body, this body hidden under layers of clothing, these sleeves too wide that only served to hide the scars, the cracks, the traces of violence too terrible.

Nyx smiled faintly as he squatted at his height:

“...I don't know... Stockholm Syndrome may be ... ?”

A joke that wasn't a joke. Oshoku bit his tongue, gently reaching out his hand to graze his son's arm, without daring to touch it too much.

“... I never knew what to do with you. How to consider you…”

He came and put his forehead against his shoulder:

“... But ... I've always been so attached to you ...”

His voice was trembling:

“... Nyx ... you're the only good thing I've ever done in my whole life ...”

His son shuddered, deeply shocked by such a confession, but above all ... above all moved. So moved that he could not control the tears that drowned his eyes.

“...father... I...”

A tentacle came tenderly to embrace him, urging him to be silent, to say no more. Oshoku was not looking for forgiveness, was not looking for excuses for his behavior. There was no excuse to be found, he had just been the worst bastard, not even deserving the status of "parent".

“...what am I supposed to do now... ?” Oshoku murmured.

But Nyx didn't know. He didn't even know what he himself was supposed to do...

“... First, we should close the portal... the younger one finally answered. We shouldn't let our timeline destroy the second...

\- ... And again I ask you: What do we do? Which side should we be on to close the portal? Should I, and the others of our time, stay here? Or stay in the past?”

Nyx hesitated. One more question... far too complicated. If Yumerai, Shiroken and Lux would have no problem being accepted into the timeline of the past... it would be different for Oshoku, Etsuko and the others.

“... Even if we were accepted... ...taken over Oshoku. Do you see us living in a world we destroyed ourselves? Seeing familiar faces again, seeing those we loved... Do you think we could stay sane with that? ... And you, would you be willing to live in the same timeline as we do, after all we've put you through?”

The youngest swallowed, his pupils turning pale in the face of these questions. He didn't know, he wasn't sure of anything... He just... He hadn't planned it, he hadn't expected it to turn out this way, and it terrified him. Not being able to control anything... Losing complete control of the situation...

“... I just... I just... ”

But his father's laughter interrupted him. Disconcerted, Nyx tilted his skull to the side, before being surprised once again by the sudden smile of his sire.

The guardian got up, helping his son to stand up again:

“... You don't have to make this decision. You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders. You've been doing it for too long ...”

They held hands feverishly, a touch so strange to them ... But Nyx saw a new hope, a new beginning:

“... Father ... We can never erase what we've done... I have my faults too... But... We can start over. We can start a new life in a multiverse in peace, a multiverse we can still pamper and protect.”

Oshoku hesitated:

“I-”

Nyx never heard the end of that sentence.

**[ I remind you that you're out of apples and your body needs sleep. Not sure if you can stay awake for more than a few minutes... ]**

He'd already pushed himself beyond his limits.

The last second had just passed.

Nyx didn't even perceive that darkness was taking over again.


	19. [ EPILOGUE ]

Distant voices... terribly distant voices...

Rustle... feeling...

But it's all... it was all hushed up. Smothered by his unconsciousness.

He had no knowledge of anything. Not his environment, not even his identity.

A deep sleep, devoid of dreams and thoughts.

At times he felt a terrible pain, a pain coming from his chest. A pain due to a lack, but a lack of what? He knew the answer, he was sure of it, but like his own name, the answer did not come.

The darkness... nothing but darkness.

There was a time when he was afraid of the dark, of loneliness, of confinement.

And yet... trapped in that space of darkness... He was not afraid. He felt... ...good. At peace. Free of a weight, as it were.

Yet his situation was not to be envied. He was bathed in total incomprehension.

But he wasn't afraid. He had confidence.

Confidence in those distant voices, voices he didn't understand but knew were familiar. He felt touched, caressed, pampered, pampered. He felt that he was being taken care of, despite his chest, which always hurt.

He had confidence.

Completely confident.

In this total absence of landmarks, both physical and temporal, he eventually realized something. After what seemed like an eternity... he realized that it didn't hurt anymore. The pain in his chest had stopped.

It had ceased to give way... to a strange comfort. Comfort he had never seemed to experience.

**[And finally, he woke up.]**

The first thing he perceived was a flash of light. The outside light, the soft rays of the sun, filtering through the curtains to come and caress his face. He blinked, somewhat confused, and didn't move at once. He let his eyes get used to this sudden brightness, which contrasted so much with the preceding darkness.

He regained contact with his senses. Slowly, very slowly ... the touch of the fine sheets, the smell of freshly washed linen, the familiar sounds of the castle ...

The castle.

He widened his eyes, straightened up completely to observe his surroundings. He was... in his room at Dreamtale. This room that Nightmare had given him. And that realization warmed his soul with a warmth he'd never known so strongly.

**[His name was Nyx]**

Yeah, his name was Nyx. He was Nyx. Time traveler, son of Nightmare and Ink, but from another timeline. And as all the events came back to his mind, the misunderstanding grew: what had happened? He remembered talking to his father... but then? The dark, just the dark... He'd crossed the line.

He'd... fallen asleep?

Normally, he'd be worried. But, um... (sighs) But he wasn't. Why wasn't he? As if he was released from something, something too big, too heavy to carry.

He got off the sheets, slowly put his feet on the ground, and shivered. He was only wearing a jogging suit, nothing else, and the contact of his bare bones on the floor caught him off guard. He shivered, was unable to get up, and fell back on the mattress. As if he had forgotten how to walk.

But if falling down like that surprised him, he was more shocked by what was revealed to him. His soul had just slipped out of his rib cage, mischievous and playful, throbbing with strange joy, to come and show itself to him.

His purple soul.

...Purple?

**[ But...? ]**

He doesn't grasp it immediately. Simply because it involved too many things, too many things.

Black apples. How long had it been since he'd eaten them? They had made his soul blacker than the night itself, and if that blackness had now disappeared ... did it mean that he was no longer in the grip of those cursed fruits? That he... was now free from corruption?

To find out, he turned his gaze to the shadow of his bed and concentrated on making his tentacles appear. But... (sighs) But no matter how hard he concentrated, no matter how hard he tried. It didn't matter how many minutes passed. Nothing was happening. His appendages were not showing.

Wouldn't show up.

He hiccupped, not knowing if he should be happy or panicked, not knowing what to do with this revelation. He was just too confused.

He had been addicted to black apples for years, too many years. Lacking these apples caused him to have terrible seizures, as he had experienced hundreds of times before.

Now he was not having any seizures at all.

Suddenly he had a flash. He remembered the pain he had felt when he was unconscious. This pain that was actually a seizure. A long seizure that he had experienced through his sleep.

A seizure ... that had ended.

He was... detoxed? ... He was just... Just like that?

No, it couldn't be that simple. All his problems couldn't be solved in just one night's sleep.

... How long had he been asleep?

His thoughts did not have time to dither as the bedroom door opened, immediately attracting the attention of Nyx, who observed the newcomer... ... and remained silent in amazement.

A heavy silence fell. In the doorway stood a young skeleton, a teenager about 14 years old. A teenager ... ...far too familiar. With black ink-black bones, pink eye sockets, and yellow and blue pupils.

A teenager who became livid when he saw Nyx sitting in bed, wide awake.

“G-big brother... ? “ stuttered the newcomer.

Even the voice, though slightly muted, was familiar. And the name ...

Nyx widened his eyes:

“... Jammy?”

The nickname pushed the poor Paperjam to the edge of tears, and without warning he threw himself into the arms of the elder, pressing him against the mattress with all his weight, coming to curl up against him, the first salty drops sliding down his cheeks.

"You are awake... ! You're awake... ! "sobbed the smallest one, holding himself tighter and tighter against Nyx, as if afraid that he would disappear.

And this only confirmed what the older one feared: he had slept a long time.

**[Much too long]**

His throat became tied and he came feverishly to respond to his younger brother's embrace, tenderly caressing his back in the hope of calming his tears, but also to reassure himself. A multitude of questions came overwhelming him and he dreaded having the answer. What had been going on all this time? What had he been missing? Were his loved ones well? Or was he thinking of going back in time to change some new event?

“... J-Jammy... what is... ?”

The cadet sniffed softly before standing up, feverishly wiping his eyes without really succeeding. Nyx also straightened up to bring his face closer to his own and put his hands on his cheeks to dry his tears with the back of his thumb.

“It's going to be all right... calm... I'm awake now... I'm awake now, and I'm okay. Okay?“

He gave him a sweet smile and Paperjam sniffed a second time, before slowly nodding his head. Nyx took the time to calm down before daring to question him:

“ ... Jam, do you think you can quickly explain to me everything I missed?”

The youngest nodded his head once more, before coming back to curl up against Nyx and hide his face in his neck:

“Y-You... Oh, that was a while ago... You jumped into the portal to help Oshoku... But when Papink and Nightmare left to help you, they brought you back unconscious...

\- A-And my father?

\- Oshoku was with them... he was worried about you. He tried to cast his spell to keep you awake, but Lux and Yumerai wouldn't let him. They said you needed to sleep, even if it took a long time... but we missed you so much... Nightmare kept you in the castle. Me and my dads came to live here to look after you. We all took turns looking after you!”

Nyx felt his soul squeeze, moved by the words of his younger brother, whom he questioned a second time:

“And... how long have I slept... ?

\- S-Six years...”

Although he expected worse, Nyx petrified, the length hitting him in the face. Damn it. six years wasn't nothing! And Paperjam thought no less ...

“... a-and... did anything important happen... ? stuttered Nyx with uncertainty.

\- Well... Yes !”

Paperjam found a fabulous smile, although his eyes were still watery. He looked at his elder brother with some excitement, happy to be the one to tell him everything:

“Under Shiroken's advice, Cross finally confessed to Epic that he loved him ! They are a couple now! Oh, oh! And we have a new little sister! Her name is Shera! DaddInk and Perror fought over a name, but you'd see her! She's so cute! I have to introduce you to her! And Horror and Dust are a couple too! Ah, Insomnia's all grown up! He'll be so happy to see you! And, uh...”

Nyx had a sweet laugh:

“Take it easy, Jammy, catch your breath...

\- Ahah, sorry! But I'm so happy... I'm so happy... I missed you so much, big brother...”

And Paperjam seemed to be about to cry again, but he quickly rubbed his eyes to contain himself, before resuming his story more slowly:

“Also... Shiroken, Yumerai and Lux lived for a while in the castle. But I think they felt out of place .... They said they wanted to watch over this multiverse, but on their own side.”

Nyx fanatic smile almost immediately:

“...you... you mean they're gone ... gone?

\- Yes, they're gone... I'm sorry, maybe I'm coming at you too abruptly ... We're... We haven't heard from them in a while. But Nightmare and Dream don't seem worried, I think they're still feeling their emotions. So that's all good for them, isn't it?”

The older one did not answer, but bit his tongue to contain the bitterness that was taking hold of him. His uncle... His cousin... His master-of-arms... They were gone. Again, they were separated. And Nyx somehow blamed himself for not waking up sooner, if only to thank them for stepping in. If only to thank them... for taking care of him.

He swallowed his saliva, heavy soul, before feverishly asking another question:

“...and... about my... ?

\- ... parents? Oshoku and Etsuko ?”

Paperjam took some time to think. He could see that it was a lot for his elder to assimilate...

"Well... They disappeared too. Etsuko... Etsuko didn't talk anymore about seeing his memories. I think he's... bugged... ? I don't really remember, it was a few years ago... You'll have to ask Papink. But for all I know... he and Oshoku and the Horror and Dust of the Future have closed the portal to your original timeline. I don't know if they stayed in our timeline or not though... Nightmare and Yumerai didn't seem to want them to stay.”

Nyx's soul missed a beat:

“ ... They ...

\- I can't say anything for sure, big brother, I'm sorry...”

The eldest son fell silent, feeling a wave of emotion drowning him. He looked away, but his pupils turned blue, showing his inner struggle. Paperjam looked at him sadly before coming to embrace him delicately:

“ ... You can let go Big brother ... I'm right here, I'm right here. You can ... You may no longer have your timeline, nor those who were connected to it ... but now you have a new timeline. You have a new family. And... it's... it's not so bad, no... ?”

A first tear escaped Nyx as he responded to the embrace with trembling, his voice rising in a hesitant murmur:

“Jammy...”

A second tear slid down his cheek as he squeezed his little brother tighter:

“...not so bad... Are you kidding? ... I couldn't have wished for better.”

Both of them suddenly jumped when the door slammed again. Surprised, they straightened up and, through his blurred vision, Nyx saw a small skeleton about 7 years old, with black tears and a terribly familiar azure look in his eyes.

“ ... S-Somnia... ?” he stammered.

Little Insomnia had grown up, just like Paperjam. And if his memories of an awake Nyx went back a long way, he had immediately recognized his emotions, just as he had felt the emotions of Paperjam.

Confused, the child did not have time to speak that Nightmare suddenly arrived, having also felt the emotions that emanated from the room.

He petrified at the sight of Nyx. His mouth remained half-open, in a silent hiccup, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing... and finally he turned around, only to return a few moments later in the company of Ink.

Ink rushed over his two sons and hung them in his arms:

“Oh Nyx! Nyx!” he exclaimed with emotion, caressing the elder's head, kissing his cheekbone, cuddling him as a father would have done if he had been too attentive.

Nyx was unsettled, not having expected such a reaction from the painter. Especially since his last memory of Ink was when he had disowned Etsuko?

But Ink showed him such tenderness that he felt himself melting under his caresses, and when he felt Nightmare hugging them in his appendages as well as Insomnia joining them, he cracked.

He sobbed, and then broke into tears against his youngest son, clinging to him as if it were the most precious thing in the world. And despite his hiccups, his groans of pain, his tear-ridden face...

Nyx smiled.

He smiled sincerely.

**[Today was a new beginning.]**


End file.
